


Ouija

by Orestiad



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Devil, Devil!Arthur, Devil!England, Human Names Used, M/M, Sweet Devil, college universe, human!Alfred, human!America
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-05-24 21:53:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6168016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orestiad/pseuds/Orestiad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a fun night in with his buddies, Alfred accidentally summons a demon who has grown tired of Hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Come on!” Alfred wasn’t proud, but that sound could definitely be classified as a whine. “It’ll be fun!”

His friends obviously were divided about the idea. Half of them were all for it, whilst the other half was making weird faces and shaking their heads. He pouted a little, waving the Ouija board in his hands.

He found it whilst cleaning out the attic of his late grandmother.  There was some pretty cool stuff there but most of it had been taken by his parents to be given up for sale or to keep themselves. He did manage to score a sweet looking bomber jacket. After dry-cleaning it, his ma stitched together some loose ends and ta-da! He totally rocked it.

“What’s not going to be fun is you keeping us awake because you’re too scared to sleep.” His cousin deadpanned, shaking his head.  Mattie was such a buzzkill sometimes, gee.

“Dude, not cool! Let’s vote for it then. All in favour of playing a board game, say aye!”

He counted at least two ayes, including himself three. And that meant it was a win for him, because they were with five and the others were in the minority.

Alfred grinned as he sat down at his coffee table, quickly clearing it from the junk that was on it. Kiku sat down next to him, face as unreadable as always. Matthew eventually sighed and slumped down opposite of him.

“It will be like, totally fun!” Feliks said as he sat down next to Matthew and all but dragged an unwilling Toris next to him.

Alfred only recently met the strange duo as they had transferred into his university that year, but so far they seemed really fun. Apparently the two knew each other before, and Alfred wasn’t really sure about the nature of their relationship but whatever. Hell, half of the time he wasn’t even sure about Feliks’ gender but that didn’t bother him either.

Mattie and him had basically grown up together, and though they attended different courses they saw each other at least once a week. Of course that wasn’t very hard, what with living in the same building. They looked freakishly alike too, people often mistaking them for brothers. He supposed he was a brother from another mother. Alfred knew he was totally the hotter one, though.

Kiku had been his friend since junior year, high school. They both went to the same university afterwards, following the same course. Alfred had to admit, the entire business management seemed a lot easier at first, but many a time Kiku managed to drag him through the difficulty he was experiencing, bless his heart.

Though Alfred was _so_ done with the –san. He supposed it was just in Kiku’s nature, the boy had been raised as Japanese as they can get. Even though they had been friends for so long, Kiku always called him –san. He started hearing it less and less fortunately, apparently getting used to it. At least he wasn’t called -senpai or something, because he had watched enough fucked up anime to know where that would be going. Courtesy of the same friend, of course.

“Is it even an authentic one? It looks like cheap funfair crap to me.” Matthew said softly. It was true – even though it was made of wood and had a beautiful colour, it looked a little cheap. There was a sun and a moon near the yes and no, and weird markings in the corners on the other side of the board. Alfred could even see a copyright mark.

But he decided on ignoring that – Mattie was used to that anyway he figured. His cousin didn’t often speak up very loudly and in the presence of someone as boisterous as Alfred he had the disadvantage.

Kiku, however, took notice of the poor guy. “I heard it doesn’t matter, as long as you perform the séance right. My cousins once used a board made of paper.” He said, watching Alfred grab the planchette and dusting it off. “Where did you find it, Alfred-san?”

 “My gran’s attic! She had so many weird witch stuff up there, it was totally awesome. Wasn’t allowed to take most of it though, but I also saw a bunch of weird clothes and gems and all! It looked as if it was a decor for a movie or something.  Apparently she was a wiccan?”

“I find it, like so weird.” Feliks started, resting his chin in his hands. “That you are so terribly scared of horror movies and can totally just rummage around on a creepy attic.”

“I am not! I just get startled easily, but I’m not scared!” Everyone but Kiku and Alfred started laughing, as if Alfred said something funny. He didn’t, though. He was so not scared of horror movies. Okay, to be honest, they could be a _little_ scary. Especially those with bad endings. But usually the hero prevailed! He had to watch the movies too, to prepare himself for situations like that.

Feeling his face heat up at the mockery, Alfred focused back on the Ouija board. It had come in a box with instructions and all. He’d done some research on YouTube once he found the thing, but most of it looked totally fake.

“Okay, listen up you losers.” Alfred said, silencing the others as he held out the paper with instructions in front of him. “First three- wait, we definitely got to turn the lights off!” He darted up and quickly shut down the light, the room illuminated by the street lamps outside. It was bright enough that they could still see each other, but Matthew still cheated and turned a small side lamp on.

“Candles would’ve been better.” Feliks helpfully provided, and Alfred stuck out his tongue. It wasn’t as if he had planned the evening to go like this – he had just remembered the thing all of a sudden! And it sure beat everyone arguing over which movie to watch next.

“Okay, first there are three rules. One, be in a serious mood. Two, _always_ say goodbye at the end- wait literally? Oh no, on the board. Okay. Third, never use the Ouija in your home.” He frowned. He lived in an apartment complex functioning as dorms for lots of students of his university. It wasn’t connected to the university per se, but the building had been unofficially hired by their faculty to function as such.

 He was hardly really alone, too much noise and his angry neighbour from Switzerland would start banging on the walls, and once a month he was invited to the Italian’s dinner party down the hall. They could cook up a mean pasta, he had to give them that.

He sighed – he didn’t live alone up until a few weeks ago, either. His former roommate, a funny kid from Australia, had immigrated right in the middle of the school year. He didn’t really know what the deal there was. He had been busy looking for new potential roommates, but so far only had offers from a Cuban dude he instantly had a vendetta with and some people he just plain didn’t trust with rent or anything, really. He wasn’t going to wait until the school would provide him one either – that could take _months_.

“I’m sure that’ll be okay.”  He eventually reasoned – what’s the worst that could happen? Perhaps a ghost roaming the hallways of the complex would add to the drama already taking place in the building.

The drama wasn’t hard to find if you lived nearby someone as extravagant as Feliks. Though he often heard one of the Italians get into a fight with a German too, and he wondered about how this place was just a beacon for the international. Of course his university had so many options for transfers, and transfers often didn’t have parents to live with in a foreign country, so yeah.

Toris whimpered. “I don’t want to do this, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Shut up, I totally want to meet some ghosts!” Feliks said, slapping at Toris’ arm a little.

“At least put Tony in another room – if he starts hissing I’ll piss myself.” Alfred consented with Toris’ reply. Tony was a lazy ass cat anyway, so as he dumped him in his bedroom the cat made his way to his bed and curled up there. Closing the door and hoping that he wouldn’t scratch it to get outside and still scare Toris, he walked back.

Alfred sat back down and waited until Toris had it out of his system before returning to the paper. “Be polite, be patient, be simple, be careful- okay the usual movie stuff. Oh we gotta pick a medium! That’ll totally be me, I’m the hero after all.”

“And also a documenter.” Kiku said as he read along over Alfred’s shoulder. “Someone who doesn’t participate and instead deciphers the message.”

Toris volunteered rather quickly, snatching a paper and a pen from Alfred’s schoolbag nearby.

“An opening ritual? Anyone remembers a biblical chant or something? Could I just sing God Bless the USA?”

“Does it matter?” Matthew asked, rather exasperated with the ordeal already. “Let’s just get it over with.”

Alfred huffed and tossed the paper aside, ready to get this show on the road. “Okay, so we gotta be quiet okay? No phones.” Everyone dutifully silenced their phones. “And I’ll notice if someone starts pushing it, so no funny business.”

Matthew and Feliks rolled their eyes, before copying Alfred and Kiku and putting their fingers on the planchette as well.

For a moment it was quiet, everyone looking at the board intensely. Alfred cleared his throat – right, opening ritual. He considered actually singing God Bless the USA but that would be distasteful, perhaps the ghosts they would reach were not even American. That would be awkward.

“Hello, anyone home?” Alfred decided on lamely. He stuck out his tongue at Matthew’s glare. “Beware ye who enter- ouch, Mattie, stop it!” Matthew had kicked him under the table, what an ass.

“Be serious, Al, or I’ll quit.”

“Okay, okay, don’t get your panties in a knot.” He glanced between himself and Kiku at the paper with instructions. “Is there a spirit out there? This is a safe place. Hello?”

Nothing happened. They all waited for at least five minutes, Alfred reasoned, and he sighed.

Feliks frowned. “Just start asking questions, perhaps they’re shy?”

A shy ghost. This wasn’t Casper the Friendly- oh forget it. Alfred nodded. “Is there a spirit in the room? What is your name? Are you a good spirit?”

“Alfred-san, asking so many questions in a row will not work.”

Alfred took his friend’s advice, asking the same questions but slower and drawling them out more. Ten minutes later nothing new had happened, and Toris looked calmer. “It’s just junk-“ He  yelped as suddenly the planchette moved to ‘yes’.

“Woah!” Alfred shouted in glee.

“All right, did you push it? You’re such a fraud Al!”

“I totally didn’t, I swear! What question did he answer though? Doesn’t matter! Oh cool ghost, are you there?” The planchette remained at yes and Alfred frowned. That didn’t mean anything. “I mean, what is your name?”

Slowly, but surely, the planchette started to move. Out of the corner of his eye Alfred noticed Toris getting kind of green-faced, but this was way too cool!

“Okay so a W and a H- what, why?”

“You’re not funny.” Matthew deadpanned.

“I‘m not doing anything! Sir ghost, why not? Or perhaps you don’t have a name? Man, this is so cool. When did you die?”

The planchette moved to no.

“Great, you got a sassy ghost.” Feliks eventually commented as Alfred was left rather puzzled. What did he mean ‘no’? “Or a prankster. I saw this once in those Paranormal Activity movies. Like, they totally spelled the name of the kid, right? Hunter. But before that they spelled Pussy. So original.”

“Feliks, the boyfriend of the girl spelled the first part.” Toris said with a nervous laugh. Huh, Alfred couldn’t remember that scene. He was pretty sure he had seen all the movies. Perhaps he had gone to the toilet, that had to be it.

“That explains, like, so much! Alfred, ask him to show himself or something.”

“No,” Kiku said, nodding to the paper. “Asking for physical signs is dangerous. You could ask him if he is in the room.”

Before Alfred had a chance to ask, the planchette moved between no and yes, before settling on a few letters. Alfred said them out loud along with the movements, frowning as he connected the word.

“Maybe? What kind of an answer is that!” He had to admit, this was funnier than he had expected. Though slightly disappointing too – he’d rather have a cool ghost who would tell them stories about heroic things rather than a sassy one.

“Fine. Another one. How old are you?”

He was unimpressed when the planchette swirled, landed on 6, swirled, landed on 6, and swirled again only to land on 6. He hardly believed that – it seemed more like a cheap scaring technique.

Matthew sighed and took of his hand, abruptly standing up. “Well, that’s it, it was fun but I’m-“

Feliks and Alfred both interrupted loudly, shouting in surprise as Matthew suddenly left their circle. “Dude, you’re not supposed to do that! Now you can be possessed or something?”

Matthew gave him a flat look. “See you Friday, you asshole. Don’t hurt yourself. Bye guys.” And just like that, his cousin was gone, Kiku turned the paper around with his free hand. Alfred was a bit miffed – Matthew was totally not taking this serious. And he had just broken the rules like that!

“I didn’t read anything about quitting prematurely.” Kiku said, but it was counteracted by Feliks who claimed that if they did so in the movies bad stuff would always happen. Alfred sighed.

“My cousin is a douche, sir ghost, you’re not mad are you?” The planchette didn’t move. Great. Perhaps Matthew had been secretly pushing it then. That would be so hypocritical! Alfred pouted as Feliks and Kiku sighed.

Eventually the planchette starting moving again. “Oh! Write it down!” Alfred excitedly said as they swirled around before landing on letters. It was either a long word or a sentence or something because halfway Alfred had lost it and hoped Toris was paying attention. Eventually it went back to swirling and stopped on a blank part of the board. “What is it?”

Toris frowned. “No ghost.”

No ghost. Not a ghost? Alfred frowned, ignoring Feliks’ glare and mumble of ‘stop fucking around Alfred’ to instead stare down at the board. “I thought you could only talk to ghosts on this thing?” Alfred eventually asked, looking over at Kiku. Apparently the Japanese boy thought the same, eyes scanning through the paper again.

It was then that the planchette twitched and started moving to no, swirling a few times in an eight figure of sorts, settling on no again. Alfred was about to complain that Ouija boards were totally lying then, when it moved back to the letters. It swirled a few times in the same eight design before eventually setting on the H. Back to the A. Back to H. and to A. Back to-

A shiver went down his spine as he realized the letters to be laughter. “What the shit?!” He yelled, taking his hands away in shock. Feliks did so too, and Kiku, and Alfred _swore_ he saw the planchette moving before coming to an abrupt halt between the two letters.

“Say goodbye, say goodbye!” Toris all but screeched, and Alfred scrambled back. It felt as if the planchette was stuck and he had to wrench it from its place to settle it on the goodbye, before grabbing the planchette and throwing it across the room.

They all stared at the board, Alfred feeling as if he had been doused under cold water as he stared at the small dent there where he had wrenched the planchette loose.

Feliks started laughing. “You like totally had me there!”

Alfred stared at him, incredulously, before moving his eyes to Kiku who had an unreadable expression once again.

“At least nothing broke or something.” Kiku supplied helpfully, nodding towards the side lamp that was still shining brightly.

“Yeah,” Alfred eventually managed to choke out. “But I hope you guys totally know that _one_ of you is sleeping over tonight.”

It turned out to be Kiku. Tony had chosen that moment to indeed start scratching at the door – the poor boy probably needed to go to the litter box or wanted to eat or something. Nonetheless  it scared Toris near to tears, and Feliks soothed him by dragging him out of the apartment and back to their own down the hall.

Alfred  quickly stuffed the board back into the box and didn’t bother to find the planchette. He’d find it during his weekly clean up or something. Jumping up to free Tony, the cat shot out of the room and straight into the kitchen – his food, then.

Kiku sat back down on the couch. “There is a movie about this too.” Right! The one with the hot chick from Teen Wolf. Not that Alfred watched that series. Okay, so he did. He was totally hot for most of the werewolves, okay? “In there you could see the ghost while looking through the glass of the planchette.”

Alfred raised his eyebrows. “I am so not doing that. Whatever it was can go haunt Francis down the hall, pervert would probably like it.” He laughed at his own joke, ignoring Kiku’s stoic face. “So you wanna play a game? I’m not tired.”

Kiku gave him an unimpressed look but smiled a little and agreed. Alfred had purchased a cool new shooter game last week, and they managed to fool around on his PlayStation for a good three hours before Kiku decided he was too tired to sleep. Alfred didn’t manage to convince him to hold a slumber party in the living room or in Alfred’s room, and instead disappeared into his old roommate’s room.

Swallowing nervously and tiptoeing to his own room, Alfred closed the door behind him and turned the light on.

His room was absolutely scattered with clothes and books and other nonsensical stuff. Cleaning his apartment he could do, but his room was just always a mess. Especially now that he lived alone and practically always lounged about in the living room. He sighed – he was really going to have to find a roommate however. The price was just too high otherwise.

He ducked into the bed, lights still on, heaving a relieved sigh when Tony curled up at his feet and started purring.

* * *

 

He had completely forgotten about the incident with the Ouija board when the next week had arrived. Rather than worrying over stupid games he had his mind full on midterms and all the stuff he still had to cram into his head before the next one.

So far he managed to at least get by in college. For some reason all discipline and orderly fashion escaped him during the entire period, and he could only move himself to studying days before the actual exams. It was stressful and the amounts of coffee and energy drink he would drink could only be unhealthy for him, but he’s done it since high school and it was a habit he couldn’t get rid of.

He slumped down in the seat opposite from Matthew. Every Friday around five, if their schedules allowed it, they met up at their favourite diner for some catching up. It had been tradition since they both moved out of their houses and into dorm rooms.

“I’ve had the weirdest day.” Alfred said, announcing his arrival. At Mattie’s raised eyebrows, he continued. “There was this girl waiting for me or something after I finished my exam. Said her name was Alice or whatever. She totally had the hots for me. I had to let her down gently. Didn’t even know her! Probably a year below or something.”

Matthew rolled his eyes. “Not every girl that approaches you has the hots for you, Al.”

“You should’ve seen her! She was all giggly and twirling her hair and asking where I lived and stuff. It was creepy. She didn’t back away until I told her I didn’t play for her team. She was hot though, blonde hair and librarian glasses and shit.”

“I’m sure you were very subtle in letting her down.”

“I was! She didn’t look angry or sad.”

“Then perhaps she was just weirded out by you thinking she was coming on to you.”

Alfred groaned. Mattie always had to do be the reasonable one. But Alfred knew an interested girl when he saw one – while he wasn’t really vain or anything he knew he was at least attractive enough, he was asked out rather often. And while Alfred could totally understand the appeal and could definitely see the attractiveness in girls, they just didn’t cut it for him. Too much curve, too much boob.

Besides, Natalya would have his head if he ever started swinging for the girls anyway. Aside from her weird crush thing on her brother, she had made it abundantly clear that should Alfred ever want to date a girl, she would be first in line. That would creep him out usually, but she was cool aside from that.

They ordered their usual – Matthew his weird breakfast-for-dinner food (pancakes and syrup) and Alfred burgers and fries. This was the only place he knew that rivalled McDonalds too, though if he wanted a really good burger he’d go to the King.

“So, Frenchy pants still on your tail?”

Matthew groaned. “Don’t even start. Ever since he found out I speak French he’s been using the most ludicrous pick-up lines during class, all in French of course. It’s embarrassing.”

“If you want me to beat him up just say the magic word!”

“I can handle myself,” Matthew said dryly. “But thanks anyway.”

See, sometimes his cousin was an open book. And for all the complaining he did about the weird Frenchy pervert, Alfred knew Matthew absolutely loved the attention. The reason could be debatable – Alfred wasn’t sure whether or not he actually like the guy or if he just liked to be someone’s focus. And until he’d find out, Alfred would listen to the complaining and watch the awkwardness unfold.

As long as it wouldn’t be a repeat of the weird German albino kid his cousin dated a while back. He was fairly sure Gilbert had hooked up with his roommate now, but his hook-up with Matthew had been disastrous.

Hearing Mattie’s phone beep and seeing his cousin reaching out to look reminded him of his own cell phone, and he turned to rummage through his bag. Sometimes it felt like a Mary Poppins bag with how much stuff he could cram in there. Shoving the books and pencils aside, he felt around for his phone and instead curled his fingers around something weirdly familiar.

“Weird.” Alfred said, picking up the planchette he had forgotten about. Had he thrown it into his bag? He was sure he had heard it thud on the ground when he had whirled it away. Besides, he grabbed this bag from under his bed as he switched it with his usual backpack.

Matthew rolled his eyes. “Really, Al? What a piece of junk. It wasn’t even funny.”

Ignoring the jab, Alfred turned it over a few times. Nothing looked damaged and he was fairly sure it was the same one. Mattie was right however, it was a piece of junk. Perhaps he’d just donate the board to a fun centre or something.

“Kiku told me you can see the ghosts you talked to if you look through the glass.” Alfred said with a grin, waving the planchette between them. Though he was fairly sure Kiku meant it was only possible during the night itself. And as if there would be any ghost in the diner – perhaps one who had choked on that nasty looking mashed potato dish.

He said as much and revelled in Matthew laughing, shaking his head whilst stuffing his face further with pancakes. Taking a few bites of his own plate, Alfred looked at the thing. Eventually curiosity got the better of him – Mattie was busy on his phone so he didn’t really have anything to do.

Raising the planchette up to his glasses, he squeezed one eye shut and peered through the glass. Everything looked a little distorted, seeing as it wasn’t clear glass. He moved it a little to get funny images of his cousin’s face before peering around the rest of the diner.

The further the distance the blurrier it got, so he wasn’t really sure whether or not he was seeing something he wasn’t supposed to. He did suddenly spot a wicked shade of red with a body beneath it – he was such a sucker for dyed hair colours, it was just amazing how people could alter their bodies to their own wishes.

Removing the planchette to take a look, he frowned. Nobody in the diner had red hair. Well, no, there was a little girl near the jukebox who was ginger but it wasn’t close to what he saw. Perhaps it was just a sign or an image on the bar then?

Looking at the same spot, he raised the planchette again. Nothing, this time. Weird. He sighed and moved the planchette and his sight back to his cousin.

He all but squealed as he threw the planchette away from him, the wood clattering on the table. Right there, next to Mattie, had been the same red mop of hair. Right on top of a grinning face and acidic green blurs which had to be eyes.

Matthew frowned and Alfred hurriedly picked the thing back up, raising it to his eyes. Nothing this time, again. Whirling around to look through the diner, nothing out of the ordinary came up.

“Are you _still_ on about that Ouija thing?” Matthew asked him with a disapproving glare. Alfred slumped a little and lowered the planchette, staring at it. Perhaps it had just been his imagination. Heaven knows he could use a little less coffee and a little more sleep.

“Nah bro, I’m throwing it away. Donate it to the occult club or something.” Alfred replied with a nervous chuckle. He stuffed the planchette into the pocket of his bomber jacket for later, focusing on his plate instead.

“I’m fairly certain they have their own already.” Matthew replied with a grin. He had a point there. Alfred wouldn’t really know – it was one of the clubs he didn’t actually have a friend in. And their school had _lots_ of clubs. Lots of weird ones too. The occult club definitely belonged with the weird club. He heard they had once cosplayed Harry Potter.

Okay, no, that was pretty sick. A mob of Harry Potter cosplayers crashing the annual gala was really cool. He was almost jealous that he didn’t have his own set of Gryffindor robes – according to Pottermore, he was totally a Gryffindor.

He used to be part of the swimming club and the movie club, but quit when he found that doing so wouldn’t mean social suicide. Besides, now he had free time to actually see movies or game and to go to the gym. Win-win.

Back to his backpack. He rummaged through it again in the ever-lasting search of his phone. He knew the bugger was in there, had thrown it in before entering the diner after all.

When his hand again touched the wooden surface of the planchette he froze. He put that thing in his pockets, didn’t he? Patting down his pockets he realized it wasn’t in there, so he hadn’t hallucinated feeling it in his pack. He did find his cell phone however, in the pocket he thought he put the wooden thing in.

“Weird.” He muttered, forcing to forget about it for now.

He had forgotten about the planchette again after he had walked back to his dorm and locked the door behind him. Slinging his bag onto the kitchen counter he set to appease his cat’s needs and quickly filled his bowl with food, watching as his grey cat slithered down the kitchen and all but pounced on the bowl.

He smiled – he looked so healthy! Alfred had found him little over a few months ago on the street, really skinny and sick-looking. Being a hero such as himself he had promptly grabbed the cat, ignoring it’s scratching and forgetting he could have weird diseases, bringing him over to the vet. Once the vet cleared him for leave, Alfred decided that instead of bringing it to the shelter he might as well take the poor thing in himself.

His roommate wanted nothing to do with the cat so Tony stayed in his room, but after the other boy moved out Tony had free reign of the dorm. Perhaps that was also why he had trouble finding a roommate – he didn’t want to get rid of the cat.

Sighing as he set to fix a drink for himself, he froze as suddenly the wooden planchette of nightmares was situated between him and the fridge, lying neatly on the counter.

“What the fuck?” He asked out loud, remembering he hadn’t taken it from his bag. “Okay, I’m trashing this.” He grabbed the box with the Ouija board from the living room and dumped it in his litter bin.

Grabbing the planchette he frowned for a moment. Out of spite he lifted it back up to his glasses and peered through it with one eye. The room looked the same, if not slightly distorted because of the glass. Tony was still practically inhaling his food in the corner.

He started humming the Ghostbusters song as he turned around in the kitchen a few times, seeing nothing strange. Deciding he was going to throw the planchette away as well, he moved to the litter bin and stopped.

Out of the corner of his vision through the glass he spotted it – the same red mop and green blurs. He froze as he peered through the glass, squinting a little in vain. He could make out a silhouette on the counter of his kitchen, underneath the red hair and green blurs, though something moved a little and made it difficult to see.

Slowly removing the planchette, hoping he would still see the same, Alfred’s curiosity was sated.

A _ridiculously_ handsome man was perched on top of his counter, one leg thrown over the other. A black, pointed tail swished dangerously near his recently cleaned dishes.

Two black, leathery looking wings were folded behind the man but were still clear in Alfred’s line of sight. They reminded Alfred of a bat or one of the creatures in Kiku’s manga’s.

He had messy, out-of-bed-style hair, the colour so red that it might as well be blood in Alfred’s opinion. On top of it, two simple, black horns peeked out through the locks. Underneath the hair, two glowing green eyes peered right at him, holding his focus. He saw the man’s lips curl into a grin of sorts, showing off pointed fangs.

Alfred faltered. Realizing he shouldn’t be thinking about how insanely hot the man was, but how insanely _weird_ this was, he loudly cursed and stumbled back, but he tripped over the litter bin and blacked out as he hit his head on the wall behind it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia and English is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes!
> 
> Okay so I had to get this out of my system.  
> I'm not even sure yet whether or not this is going to be a succes but I'll try lol. 
> 
> this chapter was hell too, because I researched Ouija boards like crazy and managed to completely scare myself shitless... never watch those vids when it's dark.
> 
> and I know the title is cliché but I don't care.


	2. Chapter 2

Alfred woke up in the kitchen, his head feeling as if it had split in two. He slowly remembered tripping and falling down, and his position was getting kind of uncomfortable. Groaning miserably as he forced himself up, he stumbled over to a drawer to grab some paracetamol. Filling a glass with water he quickly popped two in his mouth, swallowing and rubbing at his head.

It was still dark out, so either he had passed out a whole day which would really suck because that meant he missed his next exam , or he hadn’t been out for very long.

Frowning as he recollected his memories, he took a step back and looked around. The kitchen was empty, the food bowl in the corner cleared out by Tony. No dead cat body was in sight, so at least that soothed some of his nerves.

Perhaps he had hallucinated. He saw the planchette lying down on the ground, and moved to pick it up. Nothing out of the ordinary there too. Still, he wasn’t going to play with it again. He unceremoniously threw it into the litter bin after he picked that up as well.

Looking out of the window he noticed it was probably long past his usual bed-time. All the lights of the windows on the other side of the building were off, or only dimly lit.

Realizing the burglar could still be in the house, he nearly slipped as he ran from room to room. Every room was devoid of life, and so far nothing was gone. At least the things that Alfred cherished most, such as his television and PlayStation or his laptop, were still there. Tony was sleeping on his bed, too, so nothing wrong there.

Frowning he went to the bathroom, taking a washing cloth and wetting it before rubbing his face with it. The cool did some to relieve his headache. Feeling around he didn’t notice any bumps or cuts on his head, so he was probably just shaken. Perhaps he should call the cops regardless.

But he could do that tomorrow. Right now, he was exhausted. He rubbed his head again and pitied himself enormously as he trudged out of the bathroom and into the living room. He was definitely going to stop with the coffee and no-sleep, no way was he going to do an all-nighter again. He’d probably fail his exam but whatever, he could re-sit one of them.

Instead of going straight to bed however, he settled down on the couch and turned his television on. He seriously needed to rewind. Knowing that watching television wasn’t going to improve his headache, he decided on only watching the news for a moment to get a sense of familiarity back. After that he’d go to sleep.

He was zoning out a little when the news was covering some rally or something a few cities from his own. His body felt heavy, and his head heavier, and he felt his eyes droop a little. It wouldn’t be the first time he would fall asleep on the couch. There was a wonderful sensation at his shoulders however, the flesh being kneaded softly. He shivered and smiled, closing his eyes to enjoy –

_Who the fuck was massaging his shoulders?!_

Yelping in shock he jumped from the couch, whirling around. He almost tripped over his own feet again. The sudden movement made his headache flare and he clenched his eyes shut for a second, opening them carefully to spot whoever was with him in the room.

The same man from before, the one that sat at his counter, was leaning on the back of the couch with a suggestive grin in place. Alfred idly noticed his rather bushy eyebrows – but he was still stunned with how stupidly hot the man was and found that he didn’t mind them at all.

What he _did_ mind was that there was a fucking burglar in the house. He gaped and looked around wildly for any kind of weapon, grabbing a vase from next to the television. The man cocked an eyebrow.

“I was wondering when you would notice.”

“Why- who- what are you doing in my house!?” He settled on screeching,  holding the vase ready to throw. He swallowed nervously as the man straightened up a little. His eyes were still as neon-bright as before – was he wearing contacts or something? “And what’s with the costume, it ain’t Halloween, mate!”

“Oh jolly, a bloody pillock.” He heard the man mutter underneath his breath, and honestly, Alfred had no idea what that meant so he decided not to care.

Alfred was about to accuse him of burgling, when the man’s wings twitched and stretched slightly behind him. He stilled – that was really cool. That had to be one expensive machine.

 “Dude, how much money did you spend on that?” He asked, rather amazed at the mechanism as he lowered the vase a little. _And his tail too_! Maybe it worked like the cat-ears Kiku showed him, moving on brain activity. Though there weren’t any brains near the back or butt-part of your body, but still!

He realized the tail was twitching and swirling about, and it faintly reminded him of an agitated cat.

 “What are you talking about, boy?”

“The wing thingy. And the tail, too! And those have to be contacts. Wait, I’m drifting off topic! Get out before I call the cops!”

“Call them. They won’t see me.” The man said with a grin. “You are quite daft, aren’t you?”

As if to prove a point, the man waved his hand around a little. His hand was momentarily shrouded by dark fog before the planchette Alfred had thrown in the litter box appeared in it. He threw it over, and Alfred caught it in reflex, frowning down at it.

Catching it meant he released the vase however, and he winced as he waited for it to break on the floor. It never happened, and he watched with astonishment as it disappeared a few inches of the ground much like the planchette had done, before reappearing into the man’s hands. He watched as the redhead turned it around a little in his hand before setting it on the side-table next to the couch.

“What do you mean? Who are you anyway? And why the cosplay?”

The man rolled his pretty eyes. Alfred had to admit it – even though it was probably one of them nerds with the costume, spending so much money on mechanical wings and stuff, he was _really_ good-looking. Definitely his type too. He usually preferred them blonde, but red was okay.

 _Get your mind out of the gutter,_ Alfred scolded himself mentally. It’s just been too long since he’s gotten laid, that’s it. This man could be a serial killer for all he knew.

“You invited me.”

“I don’t even know you!”

“The Ouija board you twat! Are you always this slow? Let me spell it out for you. You used the Ouija board, I happened to be in the neighbourhood, and you flipped out like a little girl. Ring any bells?”

Alfred gasped, offended. “I totally did not flip out like a girl!” What an asshole. But, he reasoned, if what the man said was true… “Wait, _you’re_ the sassy ghost?”

“You have a remarkable grasp of the obvious. And I am not a ghost.” The man said with a grimace, tail still distracting Alfred immensely with its twitching. “I don’t know why you humans think only ghosts are attracted to lousy communication appliances such as the board. It is a favourite amongst my kind as well. You humans are so easily spooked.”

Alfred’s mind was whirling. What the hell was the man saying? His kind? He wasn’t a ghost? Perhaps he was just a delusional stalker. That had to be it.

He looked at the planchette in his hand with a rather helpless expression. “Wait, I said goodbye, that meant I forced you back.” It was more a question than it was a statement, and he shuddered as the other man laughed.

Damn it, even his voice was attractive. And if he were correct, that was definitely a British accent. And everyone _knows_ those are the best.

“Don’t be absurd. I wasn’t trapped in it, I merely used it to amuse you lot.”

“But then where were you?”  Answering the question, he gaped as the man disappeared into a mist of black fog before reappearing practically next to the boy.

“Everywhere.” He purred into the boy’s ear, and Alfred jumped away in surprise, glaring at the amused expression of the man.

“How did I _invite_ you? I didn’t summon you or something. Just go away and let me creeped out here by myself. Man, this is so fucked up. What are you if not a ghost? Spirit? Demon? Are we going to have to make a deal? Dude, are you going to eat my soul? I so need to stock up on salt.”

“What is salt going to do?” Oh, crap. So the Winchesters were totally of no help here. Great. Fucking perfect. “And why would I make a deal with you? If I want your soul I can just take it.” That did _not_ help. Where the hell was his bat when he needed it!

But, so far the man had only talked to him. Perhaps this wasn’t going down the drain real quick. Alfred took a deep breath. “Dude,” he settled on, nervously letting out a chuckle. “You’re messing up my view of the supernatural real quick here.”

The man cocked his head a little, looking almost confused, before shaking his head.

“I suppose I should elaborate that you didn’t _actually_ summon me. I was wandering around the neighbourhood when I felt a spike in this area’s supernatural activities. Naturally, I got curious. Following you around did nothing to sate it, so I decided to show myself.”

“You followed me around? What the hell?” The man grinned sharply again. “Okay, no, no biggie.” _Stay calm, Jones, you got this._ “So your name isn’t really ‘why’ is it?”

“It’s Arthur.” The man, now given a name that sounded as attractive as the man was ( _that is weird, Al_ ), moved back from Alfred again to look around the apartment.

Alfred was starting to have a feeling that perhaps this wasn’t an escaped lunatic or a very imaginative burglar or whatever. As Arthur walked away from him towards the couch he could see that his slacks were rather tight ( _nice_ ) and that there was no extra mechanics underneath it for the tail, same for the wings.

He watched as the man, _Arthur_ , sat down on the couch in quite a sophisticated matter, as if he had walked straight out of a British drama. His wings fluttered a little before folding themselves a little. If that weren’t enough to convince him, Arthur had looked genuinely confused when he accused him of cosplaying.

He felt cold – this only happened in the movies, right? Oh man, he was so going to get ripped open and eaten alive. He was going to die an unheroic death. He watched helplessly as Arthur leant back, spreading his arms on the couch and looking way too comfortable.

 “I am willing to propose a deal of some sorts. That’s what you expect me to do, is it not?”

Alfred’s mouth went off without really thinking. It was kind of his defence mechanism. Think before you speak? Heck no, speak before you think. It actually did manage to get him out of some tricky situations, though more often when he was a child than now as an adult.

“Yes, well, in ‘Supernatural’ demons always want to make deals right? Though I am definitely not going back to Hell with you, forget it. Also you’re not getting my soul. Or my virginity.”

The last few words got a suggestive smirk out of the other man. Alfred felt a flush appearing on his face, his body heating up slightly as Arthur leered at him from top to toe. His green eyes were like as sparking fire, Alfred thought, and the mere sight of them shot bolts of electricity up his spine.

“That _would_ be an idea… if only you were a virgin.”

“How do you even know that!?”

“Because you don’t smell like a virgin.” He said it almost as if Alfred were dumb for not already knowing that. Alfred faltered again, looking at the other with wide eyes.

This was really happening, holy crap. He was aware of the danger of the situation – if this was true, then he was fucked – but he couldn’t help but think (or hope, perhaps he was just hoping) that Arthur wasn’t here to do anything creepy. He looked oddly at home, he thought, sitting down on the couch and looking as if he owned the place.

He was still going to throw the Ouija board out. No, he was going to burn the thing.

“How about this?” Arthur started, velvety voice cutting through Alfred’s line of thoughts easily. “I choose not to kill you, and I unburden you from your search for a new roommate.”

Alfred’s mind was blank for a moment. Not being killed was definitely a plus – but what? Did he actually propose inhabiting Alfred’s empty spare room? This was turning into some weird Netflix show. What did Arthur even want the room for? If he were truly as Alfred thought he was – that was, some kind of demonic being – he doubted he even needed sleep.

Strangely enough, when he opened his mouth to complain, the absurdity of the situation wasn’t the first thing to come out.

“What about the rent, man? I gotta pay up.”

“You needn’t worry about that.”

“Wait, wait,” Alfred then said, his mouth getting back in track with his line of thought. “ _You_ are going to… you _want_ to be _my_ roommate? But you- but you’re a- why would you-“ He was aware of his stammering and flushed as Arthur shot him a rather impatient look.

“Take a breath and try again, but this time use your big boy words.” Arthur said dryly.

Wow, that was brutal and uncalled for. Licking his lips, Alfred glared and stood his ground. “Why the hell would you want to _live_ here?”

Arthur seemed to consider his question for a while, impatient look slowly morphing into a more neutral one again.

“It has been a while since I have lived amongst humans. One hundred years, in fact.” Arthur was apparently musing over something whereas Alfred was stuck between horror and amazement. _One hundred years- what?!_ “And my home can get so dreadfully tiring after a while.”

 “Y-Your home?” Alfred was aware he squeaked, but he would deny it fervently later.

Arthur offered another sharp grin. “Hell, of course.”

“Of course.” So this was really not a burglar or a delusional prick. Oh god, Alfred felt as if he were going to vomit. But he couldn’t really deny it – not with the weird tail and wings and the producing things out of thin air or materializing out of thin air.

Alfred couldn’t help it – he was having a panic attack. Feeling that he was hyperventilating did nothing to actually help him, so he stumbled back a little until the back of his knees touched the table the television stood upon. He frantically looked around for some sense of normality.

Perhaps he would wake up soon and it would prove to be just a really fucked up dream. He was faintly aware of Arthur glancing at him curiously, but tried to focus on his breathing.

Scratch the hyperventilating, this was definitely turning into full-blown asthma attack. Scrambling to the side he opened a drawer in the television cabinet where he kept an extra inhaler, putting it to his lips and inhaling deeply.

 _Shit_. He hadn’t had such an attack in months, perhaps even years. Usually he didn’t need his inhaler either. He slumped down into a sitting position on the floor, trying to focus his vision more. He noticed Arthur standing up from the couch and approaching him, and he flinched away slightly as Arthur dropped down to his knees and invaded his personal space.

“Is this a common occurrence?” He heard Arthur ask curiously, and Alfred thought that the man had obviously been living without any human contact for long since he seriously needed to polish his people skills.

A _demon_ in his dorm – Alfred felt prone to another hyperventilation session.

Instead he felt a hand land on his head, fingers carefully threading through his hair. It didn’t take him very long to notice how he was oddly relaxed all of a sudden, before he lost consciousness for the second time that night.   
  


* * *

“ _Good morning US of A! It’s a brand new day, and today the sky will be cloudy with a chance of rain-“_

Alfred shot up in bed, frantically looking around as he was rudely ripped from his sleep. Shaking his head he realized the source of the interruption was actually his alarm clock, and with a sigh he shut it down.

“Weirdest. Night. Ever.” He announced to himself. It had probably been a dream, then. Why else would he be in his bed, feeling more replenished as ever? He could only explain it with him dragging his ass to bed for some much needed sleep. He knew all that energy drink and coffee would fuck him up sooner or later, he was just relieved it did so in his sleep.

He was glad that at least he had already set his alarm so he wouldn’t be late on his last exam of this period. Sighing, he wriggled himself out of the sheets and hauled his legs out of the bed. Funny – he didn’t remember changing to his usual nightwear. He was probably really tired the day before.

Making his way over to the bathroom with a new set of clothes in hand, Alfred surveyed the living room. It looked perfectly normal too. He couldn’t help but peek in the other, empty bedroom, seeing it was as empty as ever. He couldn’t see his inhaler either, so it probably never happened.

The rest of the day was much better than expected - his exam was rather easy, if he said so himself. For some reason the answers came to him naturally, and while he still doubted about the accuracy of the answer he had given, he had least not freaked out or left anything open. It was almost as if someone was whispering the answers to him inside of his head, or as if he had read the answers beforehand.

Sitting down in the university’s coffee bar as he waited for Kiku to appear, Alfred played around on his phone a little. At least now that exams were over he could get back to his usual life. Still… last night hung heavily in his mind. Now that he actually had time to think about it, he realized it was a _really_ weird dream.

He sighed and opened up internet, tapping into the google search bar. ‘Demon’ had a _lot_ of results – more than a hundred million. He frowned and tapped on the Wikipedia one – of course he knew Wikipedia wasn’t really trustworthy, but it’d usually have an accurate gist of the subject.

Navigating inside the page was rather hard however. There were different topics on demons – demons in Christianity, demons in Islam, demons in pretty much every other religion. Then there were demons per country, demons per gender, daemons, daimons, he was dizzy with all the results.

The generic image used however, was all wrong. He knew the standard, a goat-like man with huge horns. The man in his dreams had been strangely human. Remembering his name, Alfred mouthed it soundlessly. Closing the Wikipedia page and going back to Google, he typed in ‘Arthur’ next to the word. There were no real results, only characters from series or books or fan-art of people in an alternate universe.

Backspacing Arthur, he replaced it with Ouija. It gave some more clarifying results, though most of them described bad experiences with Ouija boards that he didn’t really want to read. The do’s and don’ts however, were something he indulged himself in. They had done pretty well, if he said so himself, though he remembered the mad swirling in the figure of an eight when he read that that could mean the entity was trying to escape.

But in his dream, Arthur had said he wasn’t trapped by the board and was just fucking with them.

If, and the big thing here was _if_ , his dream was more reality than he had thought, like perhaps a vision or something, then people were terribly wrong about the whole Ouija thing. Or perhaps the rules did all count for ghosts, but not for demons.

(Or he just had a wicked imagination and then he should really look into a career involving that.)

He went back to his original search. Most of the results were people’s experiences with demons or their encounters, and they were nothing like Alfred’s. He supposed ‘meeting-a-demon-that-wanted-to-hire-the-empty-room-in-your-dorm’ would be too much to ask for.

There was a lot of info on movies too, though Alfred had actually seen most of them. He shuddered at ‘the Exorcist’, watching that one in the middle of a night as a ten year old had been the _worst_ idea. He wondered if the exorcist mumbo jumbo actually worked. It hadn’t occurred to him.

 _Of course it wouldn’t have occurred to you in a dream silly._ Alfred scoffed at himself.

“Good afternoon, Alfred-san.”

Alfred looked up from his phone as Kiku sat down opposite of him. “Hey, Kiku! How’d it go?”

They discussed their exams and answers, and Alfred found he mostly had the same answers which was kind of a surprise. That meant he hadn’t totally fluked it, for once. It didn’t take very long for the conversation to give way to a pleasant, companionable silence as they sipped their drinks. He liked that about the Japanese guy – he never felt as if he needed to talk or needed to impress or something.

“Kiku,” He said after a while, a question hanging on his mind. “What do you know about demons?” Kiku regarded him with well-hidden surprise and confusion, but Alfred knew the guy by now. “I got to thinking about it with the Ouija thing and all.”

“I see,” Kiku said, putting his mug of tea down. “In my culture we call them Oni. They are usually portrayed as ogre-like, humanoid creatures with horns and claws. Sometimes they are a little more fantastical, with for example red or blue skins.”

The horn part was correct, but that was about it.

“Are there friendly ones?”

“I don’t think they are generally classified as friendly or unfriendly. Just demons.” Well, that cleared things up – not. Alfred nodded nonetheless. Perhaps Arthur’s image was just his own imagination then, a cool combination of supernatural beings he had seen in movies and games. He could totally throw the British accent on Supernatural, for one.

And it would explain why the man had been so insanely attractive. That’s what a dry spell will do to you, he reasoned. Though he was rather disappointed with himself for at least not getting to the steamy bit, in that case. A nice little romantic dream would’ve been much better.

Perhaps he should take the Hungarian girl up on her offer of her match-making service, he thought with a grimace. And perhaps he also needed to get out of his house more, he knew for a fact that spending so much time cooped up inside could make a man go insane as well.

He excused himself from the table to go visit the men’s room. His chain of thought was only broken when he accidentally collided with someone when he rounded the corner towards the toilets.

His jaw _dropped._

In front of him stood what had to be the _prettiest_ man alive (Well, the prettiest man alive that wasn’t fictional, because honestly, who was going to top Steve Rogers?).

Slightly shorter than him, the man was dressed somewhat old-fashioned – who knew sweater vests could look so good on someone? He had a gorgeous shade of blonde on top of his head, short hair tousled a little as if he hadn’t bothered to comb it or something.

Fierce green eyes that reminded him of emeralds glared up at him from underneath eyebrows that were just _adorable_ if not a tad too big for the man’s face. Christ, even the man’s nose was perfect.

Alarm bells went off in his head however when he saw the corners of the man’s lips turn upwards slightly in a smug grin. _Green eyes, bushy eyebrows-_ this man was the spitting image of-

“Arthur?” He had meant to say it in his head, but his mouth never did seem to work along with him. Wordlessly the man grabbed him by his wrist and tugged him into the men’s room, a playful glint in his extraordinary eyes. They weren’t as bright as he remembered them from his dream – but they were unmistakably the same.

 “Holy crap – it wasn’t a dream.” Alfred said as they entered the restroom, no one else in sight. Arthur released him and chuckled throatily – if Alfred could just get his mind out of the gutter that would be fucking perfect because if it wasn’t a dream and if this man was the man from the night before that would mean – “D-Demon.” He stammered, his expression horribly confused.

Arthur gave him a flat look at his ineloquent speech. “It must be terribly difficult for you to exhaust your entire vocabulary in one sentence.”

Okay, this was _definitely_ the same man from before. Alfred snapped his jaws closed and managed to look a little insulted. “Hey!”

“You never did accepted my offer.” Offer? Oh, yeah. Not get killed in exchange for the room. “I do hope you are not going to choke again.”

Alfred took a few deep breaths, nostrils flaring as he eyed the other man warily. There were no horns and no wings or tail, but then again, his hair changed to blonde and his eyes had dimmed. Perhaps he was just capable of humanizing or something.

“Wait,” He said, realizing something. “I never passed out from asthma attacks before.”

“So it seems. I knocked you unconscious.” Alfred remembered the demon’s hand threading through the locks on his head and frowned. Knocked? More like lullabied him, then. “How did your exam go?”

“Fine- why do you know that? Oh my god I thought something was off – was it because of you? It was so easy!”

“I decided to give you a taste of what I could offer you, should you accept my proposition.” Oh man, the way he said it made Alfred all uncomfortable and hot and bothered. _Focus, idiot_.

“Offer?” Alfred asked incredulously. “I thought the deal was not to get murdered.”

“I never said you could not name your own terms.” Arthur said, waving his hand around a little as if the topic were boring to him.

“Not getting murdered would be a start.” Alfred said, licking his lips and nodding. He wasn’t really sure of what to do. “And you’d pay rent? Clean up after yourself?”

Arthur frowned. “I offer to grant the wish your heart desires and you worry about rent?”

“Man’s gotta make a living. What the hell should I wish for? This ain’t Aladdin.” It was true. He didn’t have anyone he pined for, he had no dead family members he desperately wanted back (and the dead can just stay dead). He had half a mind to wish for intelligence – but he wanted to graduate with his own brains, thank you very much. And wealth? What was he going to do with wealth? He couldn’t trust himself with his monthly allowance, much less millions of dollars. He’d go bat-shit insane with all the stuff he’d buy.

 _Oooohhh wait_. “Dude, can I be a superhero?”

“Has anybody ever told you that you are incredibly average?”

“Jesus, you’re fucking savage.” Alfred said, relaxing at the sudden insult and laughing a little. It seemed his waiting and silence was getting the other riled up a little. “So I guess not. Too much danger anyway.”

Arthur raised a hand to rub at his temple, looking exasperated. “I _could_ just eat you and take your place, you know. What is your decision?”

Yeah, dude definitely needed to polish those people skills. The threat did nothing to appease Alfred and it sounded strangely empty too.

“Uh… I guess I accept? I mean, I _need_ a roommate. And you’re okay I guess.” Oh man, was he really doing this? He was bordering insane now, he knew it. _Dishonour on his family, dishonour on his cow – oh, Arthur was smiling._

He felt his face heat up as Arthur took a few steps closer to him – he could smell the other and it smelled like fire and woods and it wasn’t really unpleasant. Up close he saw some of the familiar brightness in the green eyes that seemed so much dimmer from a distance.

“Then let’s seal the deal.”

“Y-Yeah. Great. Do I gotta sign somewhere or do we kiss?”

Arthur laughed, mirth twinkling in his mesmerizing eyes. Alfred anxiously waited for his reply, not even feeling offended or ashamed.

“I prefer to shake on it, but as you wish.” Arthur said in a low voice, before grabbing Alfred’s collar and dragging him down.

Alfred, who was rather shell-shocked by now, couldn’t resist moaning when the other’s lips softly pressed against his own. It was surprisingly gentle, and Alfred marvelled at how soft the other seemed. Against his common sense he closed his eyes and moved his hands to grab the other man’s arms as he pushed back instinctively.

He felt his lower lip being bitten lightly and opened his mouth as Arthur’s tongue sought his own. The movements reminded him of encouraging – as if he needed to be encouraged, holy _hell_ – and he participated all too eagerly.

And just like that, it was over. Arthur disappeared from his grasp and appeared a step in front of him, black fog swirling around him for a moment.  Alfred dropped his arms back to his side and flushed a bright red when he saw Arthur’s deceptively amused smirk.

“So…” Alfred said after a while. “Are you going to need a key, then?”

 “If you insist. I don’t need it.” Creepy. “Now you should go back to your friend, lest he get ideas.”

“Right.” Alfred said dumbly. Arthur didn’t move, looking at him expectantly. Alfred turned around quickly and walked out of the restroom, before remembering he had to go to the bathroom. It was why he was here in the first place. Groaning he turned back around, but when he entered the room it was devoid of any other creature.

_What have I gotten myself into this time?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would have never thought this would be so popular so soon sldgjlalsdk. I love you guys. 
> 
> I finished this chapter fairly early but the rest will be a longer while I think, so sorry for that.
> 
> Also I want to warn everyone firsthand that I'm not going to stick with the usual agenda - Supernatural and the Bible and stuff will not be my guidelines lol. And if I accidentally offend anyone religious then sorry (and why are you reading a gay demon story anyway but okay love you).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might as well make the best of the situation, Alfred. (AKA where Alfred gathers his nerves and tries to befriend a demon, lol)

It took about two weeks for Alfred to let the situation he was in sink in.

During those weeks he experienced few minor heart-attacks as Arthur seemingly appeared out of nowhere, usually after it was dark. What the other was doing when he was not around, Alfred didn’t know (nor did he want to… well he was a little curious).

Once it had finally sunk in though, he experienced another mild panic attack – thankfully without Arthur around.

So far he hadn’t been killed. So far so good.

Actually, Arthur had been pretty civil. Aside from sometimes speaking mysteriously, leering at him, making comments that were just not really okay, or disappearing and appearing in black smoke.

That was probably why he had an existential crisis. He should be bloody _terrified_. He had half a mind to run over to the Italian’s dorm and ask for an exorcism or something.

Though he wondered if it would do any good. Arthur already made it quite clear the Supernatural facts were a load of crap. Besides, Arthur wasn’t messy, wasn’t noisy, and miraculously, a generous amount of dollars appeared on his bank account with the note ‘rent’ underneath it a few days ago. He was the ideal roommate.

So yeah, aside from the fact that Arthur was a demon, creepily appeared out of nowhere, and had wings and a tail, he was pretty normal.

One night, Alfred returned home late from hanging out with friends, to find Arthur wrapped up in a blanket and watching television with a concentration that could rival Kiku’s. It had been that show about the modern day town with the fairy-tale characters living in it, but apparently Arthur was a big fan already. The normality of it struck Alfred kind of weirdly, especially because he was starting to get used to having the man around.

They didn’t talk very much, usually because Alfred was kind of unsure of what to say. They greeted one another when one would come home – yes, that was another thing!

Alfred was nothing if not a well-mannered adolescent, you know. So, of course, the first night Arthur actually made an appearance and stayed in, he was nervous enough to cook up an entire three course meal. Arthur had simply looked at it as it was shoved underneath his nose, before giving Alfred a look that clearly asked whether or not the American was insane. 

Arthur didn’t _eat_.

_At all_.

No regular food, no meat, no humans, no souls, no blood. Alfred had listed the things out loud as he tried to remember what demons should eat according to pop culture, and Arthur had only laughed at him, which kind of made him feel insulted.

But having to eat no sustenance whatsoever, was not right in Alfred’s book. Even zombies had to eat, you know?

He had complained as much and Arthur had idly mentioned that they could eat, but just didn’t need it. Food or living beings (Alfred had shuddered) were more like a delicacy or something to speed up recovery. Afterwards he had ridiculed the idea of zombies – _Really Alfred, the living dead? How tedious_ – and had disappeared to God knows where for the rest of the evening.

His childhood was being ruined here, so to speak. Arthur was _nothing_ like pop culture demons. Aside from not eating, he was fairly sure the demon didn’t sleep either. He figured that when the door was closed to the spare bedroom, that Arthur was in there doing something, but it was closed only rarely.

Arthur came and went as he pleased, and more often than not Alfred would meet an empty apartment only to be scared half to death later that day by Arthur suddenly looking over his shoulder.

Perhaps he should keep a journal. All these things he was learning, man, he could write the next Harry Potter with this kind of information. Though he was sure it didn’t differ all that much from pop culture – people had to get their muses from somewhere, right? There had to a be a core of truth in some things, right?

For now, he settled with forcing himself to get used to sharing his living space with a demon, a demon that didn’t fit the bill.

A demon who, mind you, fluttered freely in his ‘original’ form inside the dorm, too. At least Arthur didn’t seem very bothered by Alfred’s blatant and obvious staring and gawking. A part of him was revolted at the sight of the leathery wings, but another part of him was so incredibly curious to touch.  He didn’t act on either feelings.

But the biggest problem was not having a demon for a roommate. It was letting other people know he had a new roommate, and trying to lie about the fact that said roommate was a perfectly normal guy.

“Right, right, get off my back.” Alfred nervously chuckled, swatting Feliks out of his personal space.

He was currently with his usual group of friends, lounging about at the campus’ coffee shop. Alfred had offhandedly commented something about Arthur in a conversation about what their group had done last weekend (he had been binge-watched Jessica Jones and Arthur appeared out of nowhere, commenting about the actress, spooking Alfred into next year).

Predictably, no one in the present group of his friends had any idea who this Arthur was. They all looked vaguely curious for a while, expecting Alfred to explain, but he had shut down, not sure how to explain the concept of Arthur to them.

Feliks had, expectedly, all but launched himself towards the American boy for details.

“Arthur’s my new roommate.”

The Polish boy gasped, apparently offended he hadn’t heard this earlier.

“Good on you for finding one.” Toris said with a friendly smile. “Does he study here, too?”

_Oh crap. Make something up, quick!_

“Yeah, don’t remember what though. Something boring.”

Judging by their nods they bought it. Alfred had this cat in the bag.

“So where is he from?” Feliks proceeded, intent on interrogating him. Alfred blanched and thought of the British accent the man had.

“Eh… England. Got the whole posh, British thing going on too.” Well, he wasn’t _lying_ per se.

“Accents are, like, hot though. What does he look like? British guys are always either stupidly hot or weirdly unattractive.” Feliks ignored Toris scolding him for the prejudices, waiting for an answer impatiently.

Alfred blinked owlishly. He had been insanely attracted to Arthur from day one, though the weirded-out-feeling about the man being a demon was way stronger.

“I guess he’s hot? R- blonde hair, green eyes.” He was going to say red, but remembered Arthur’s human form, which was blonde. If his friends were ever to see Arthur, he hoped it would be with blonde Arthur. “He’s got insane eyebrows though. And I mean _caterpillar_ insane.”.

Oh man, he was sure Arthur would kill him if he heard him now, but it was easy to gossip. Pretend he wasn’t deadly or dangerous, and just another guy as his roommate.

“Like of course he is hot if he shares my traits!” Feliks preened proudly.

Alfred had to disagree – the two looked nothing alike, despite both having blonde hair and green eyes. Arthur’s eyes were acidic and glowing and passionate, and his hair was messy and more of sand-like blonde, whereas Feliks’ blonde was almost obnoxiously shiny, and his eyes darker.

And he wasn’t going to comment about Arthur’s tendency to dress as if it were still the first half of the twentieth century. Feliks would have a field day and demand he be allowed to take the demon shopping.

“So when do we get to meet him?”

_Never, if I have any say in it._ Of course that wasn’t realistic. Alfred realized he had no idea how long Arthur was planning on vacationing in the human world. So, he opted to shrug, commenting how they’ll probably run into him one day or another at Alfred’s. Which wasn’t a lie, so yeah.

Besides, he wasn’t even sure if Arthur was going to be okay with that. Hell, he wasn’t even sure how Arthur would handle it. Would he be normal, or a creep, or weird or… demonic? He decided he wasn’t going to impulsively risk it. Perhaps he’d ask Arthur later, if he were to show up later that night.

The conversation was quickly diverted when their table was approached by two other people.

Francis had his arm slung over Matthew’s shoulders affectionately, and was pointedly ignoring Alfred’s glare.

Despite complaining about the Frenchman’s advances a few days ago, Matthew apparently caved. He’d probably hear it if it became anything real serious, and so far Mattie told him that they were only dating to see how it would work out.

Perfectly innocent, he was told. That’s why he wanted to punch that leering look from Francis’ face, but alas, if he didn’t want Matthew to be angry with him, his hands were tied. He watched as they both took a seat, Francis sliding his chair a little closer to Matthew than necessary.

He was _so_ going to have _the_ talk with the man, later.

As it were, Matthew looked slightly upset with him, after Feliks regaled the information of Alfred having a new roommate.

“It’s only been two weeks, oh my god.” Alfred said, rolling his eyes.

Perhaps he shouldn’t say ‘oh my god’ anymore.  He wondered if he was even going to get into heaven still, what with having a demon living with him. Or being weirdly attracted to said demon. Was it too late to go to church? He didn’t want to burst into flames upon entering holy ground.

Oh well, he wasn’t going to think about it. He had never been a religious person anyway, and even though he now knew there was a hell and heaven, he saw no reason to worry about it. Just keep on living the way you were doing it, and it’ll be fine, he reasoned.

Or rather, he was being blissfully ignorant. And he wasn’t going to let anyone judge him for that, thank you very much. It was just a game of survival, after all, letting the demon stay with him.

Feliks quickly explained what little he knew about Arthur to Matthew, who nodded, and Francis laughed mockingly.

“ _Mon Dieu_ , a Brit living with an American? That is a soap waiting to happen.”

“I bet you ten bucks that they’ll have slept with each other by next month.”

Surprisingly, the bet came from Matthew, whose hand was accepted in a shake by Francis as they apparently closed the deal. Alfred frowned, rather mortified by the idea. If they would only know who Arthur really was, then they’d probably be betting about his death instead.

“What a way to be a supportive cousin! I’m not a slut.”

“Oh come on Alfred, blonde hair, green eyes, _and_ a foreign accent? That’s been your type since first grade. I’m pretty sure you haven’t pined over Feliks here solely because he’s taken and kind of a weirdo with the crossdressing – no offense.”

“None taken. He isn’t my type either.” Feliks said pleasantly, with a reassuring smile to Toris.

“Just because he fits the description of my _type,_ doesn’t mean I’m automatically attracted to him!” Alfred protested. “Trust me, he’s _not_ boyfriend material.”

“Make it thirty bucks.” Matthew said to Francis, who nodded gleefully. Alfred groaned and dropped his head on the table top.

Apparently Toris finally took some kind of pity on him however, as Alfred got a ping from his cell phone. He had been invited to a Facebook event, and upon noticing who had sent the invite, Toris smiled.

“Perhaps you just need to get out some more, yeah? Or you could bring Arthur.”

Alfred hesitated – going out into town seemed like a good idea, and he didn’t have anything to do that night. Plus, he was a sucker for these kinds of night – karaoke? Alfred was your man. Besides, Ivan had checked in too, and he was definitely up to see what business his friend-slash-rival had at a party like that. Oh man, getting the Russian drunk and seeing him do karaoke would be _gold_.

He was _not_ going to bring Arthur, however.

“Probably. Good idea, thanks. I’ll let you know.” Alfred said, ticking the ‘interested’ button before pocketing his phone again.

 “You should, like, bring the Ouija board.” Feliks suggested with a bright grin, ignoring Toris’ instant complaint. “Perhaps you can attract some cute boys! And you can, like, totally play their hero.”

Alfred gagged at the idea – this wasn’t some anime – and shook his head. “I ditched it, man. Wanted to donate it, but no one wanted to have it. So I threw it out.”

“Wow, that’s stupid.” Feliks said with a frown. “It looked, like, pretty authentic, I bet you could’ve sold it for some nice bucks.”

Matthew snorted. “I doubt it. It was as manufactural as it can get. I was surprised it didn’t have ‘made in China’ written all over it.”

“Yeah, no. Thing creeped me out.” Alfred said, ignoring his cousin.

“You played with an Ouija board, _oui_?” There was something in Francis’ tone that sounded kind of condescending, as if Francis was a know-it-all, and Alfred shot to the defence rather quickly.

“Only once, dude. We thought it would be fun.”

“But you got spooked?”

Well, who wouldn’t be, with a demon appearing sitting on your counter like a day later. Alfred almost wanted to shout just that, to get rid of the smug look on Francis’ face, but he couldn’t. He’d probably be declared nuts anyway, and Matthew had already been eyeing him strangely when he had brought up the supernatural these past few days.

“A hero doesn’t get spooked!” He said nonetheless, covering up his nervousness with over-the-top behaviour. One of his best diversion strategies. One Matthew recognized, but his cousin only rolled his eyes. “Besides, like Mattie said, it was just a piece of junk. Why, you ever used one?”

“Quite often, actually.” Francis said pleasantly, surprising practically everyone at the table. “My sisters were into that kind of stuff for a while. I never did seem to believe quite as much as they did however. Moving that wooden thing and seeing their expressions was _très magnifique!_ ”

Toris looked kind of relieved, and Alfred just huffed in annoyance. What a fake!

“So you never, like, talked to ghosts? I was sure we did, that night.”

“As if someone would admit to pushing.” Matthew said dryly.

“ _Non, mon petite ami_ , I’m fairly certain it was always me or Michelle pushing the wood. She was so very obvious, calling me a frog and not wanting to spell a name.”

Alfred froze momentarily at the last part, the sentiment reminding him so fiercely of Arthur. It would be rather coincidental and hilarious however, if Arthur had been playing around with Francis and his sisters.  And wasn’t frog a name the British used for the French? Oh, he definitely had to ask about this later. It was entirely possible it had been another ghost or demon, or had in fact been Francis’ sister, but he wasn’t going to rule anything out.

After about half an hour, his friends apparently decided for him that they were going over to Alfred’s place to eat and hopefully meet Alfred’s new roommate. Alfred protested loudly but in the end he couldn’t come up with any real excuses (without exposing the truth) as to why they would not be allowed to come home with him.

At least he managed to convince them they needed to hurry their sorry asses out by dinner time because he had to work on a project he created out of thin air. At least Kiku wasn’t here, or he’d be busted, seeing as the Japanese man shared his classes.

Alfred mused about getting his roommate a cell phone – did he already have one, perhaps? It would be way easier to just text him and ask him if he was going to be home, and if so, warn him.

At the door, Alfred was stalling anxiously and making more noise than necessary. _If_ Arthur was inside, he sure would have heard Alfred bickering with his friends, and would’ve transformed into his more human like appearance right? Alfred can’t imagine what would occur if they’d stumble upon him in all his leather, wing-and-tail glory.

No wait, he could imagine. Feliks definitely had a kink for leather, after all. Mattie would probably have the same reaction Alfred initially had.

He heard Francis and Matthew converse in French behind him, and he just _knew_ it was about him (they were probably mocking him for not being able to open the door quickly), and they smugly smirked at him as he glared over his shoulder.

Finally swinging the door open and storming into the dorm, Alfred heaved a huge sigh when he noticed Arthur was nowhere in sight. He was immensely relieved – and disappointed? Why the heck was he disappointed?

Feliks appeared disappointed too, eyes flitting around excitedly until he noticed no one else was inside. He pouted a little but bent down nonetheless to pet the approaching cat.

“Okay, so, all I got is beer.” Alfred said as he wandered over to the kitchen, pulling his fridge open. He had to go do grocery shopping soon, he realized with a sullen expression. Oh, the life of a student. If only he could live on take-out forever and still be healthy and fit.

Francis complained about how beer was awful in comparison to wine, to which Alfred snapped that if Francis wanted more expensive shit, then he was welcome to leave, and in the end everyone was taken care of. Francis sipped his beer with a mellow expression.

The group settled into easy conversation, and just as Alfred started thinking the night would go easily, with Arthur not coming in to meet the misfits he called his friends, the door rattled.

At first, Alfred wanted to shoot up in alarm. Nobody but him had keys – and it struck him that up until now, Arthur had always just appeared out of nowhere, instead of using the door. He realized Arthur probably knew of the company Alfred was in, because when the door opened and Arthur walked in, he was in his more human appearance.

Man, blonde hair and green eyes were _so_ his type.

The entire room had silenced as the door had opened and shut, Arthur walking into the room with a mildly sour expression, frowning as all sets of eyes were upon him in an instant. A silence followed as his friends apparently waited for Arthur to introduce himself, and Alfred resisted a laugh when he saw Arthur’s eyes flit over to his room, as if wishing he could disappear into thin air.

Sometimes the man was so weirdly human, after all.

“You must be Arthur!” Feliks instantly yipped, jumping up from the couch to approach the demon. Arthur scowled a little and took a step back, to which Feliks faltered only a little.

“Yes.” Arthur replied smoothly, looking the Polish man up and down. Apparently Arthur wasn’t used to people like Feliks, Alfred mused. Hell, the first time Alfred met Feliks, he hadn’t known what to think either.

“I’m Feliks.” Feliks _grabbed_ Arthur’s hand from where it was hanging at Arthur’s side, clasping it in both of his hands and shaking it eagerly.

Arthur’s eyes widened a little in surprise and annoyance, and Alfred held his breath, but nothing happened. It was over before he knew it, Feliks having released the other blonde.

“Charmed.”

“And this is Toris, my bae.”

“Your… bae?” Alfred snorted at Arthur’s confused expression, instantly shutting up at the heated glare he got in return. Feliks continued on however, as if he hadn’t heard Arthur’s comment. “We live down the hall! You should, like, stop by for dinner sometime, get you initiated and everything! I heard you study here too. Are you, like, enjoying it? Did you start in the middle of the year?”

Alfred cleared his throat when Feliks obviously started to ramble, whether it was because of nerves or excitement, and Feliks huffed at him with a disapproving look. Arthur blinked once, staring at Feliks as if he were some puzzle.

He sheepishly grinned at his roommate, nodding over to the couple on the other side of the couch. “Arthur, this is Mattie, my cousin. And that is-“

Francis had already shot up from the couch as well, taking Arthur’s hand from his side, prompting another annoyed look from the Brit.

“I am Francis. _Enchanté_.”

Instead of just enthusiastically shaking it, however, he ducked down slightly and raised Arthur’s hand up, brushing his lips over the demon’s knuckles.

Alfred wanted to _die._ Who did that? Francis was stepping over his boundaries here, big time. This wasn’t a Jane Austen novel, for Christ sake.

He watched in mortification as he watched several emotions flit over Arthur’s face, who was obviously taken by surprise because he usually had such a cool façade. He was faintly aware of Matthew grumbling in irritation at the flirtation, and had half a mind to grab the Frenchman and kick his ass back to yesterday for already acting like that in Mattie’s presence, when Arthur surprised him.

Arthur snatched his hand back and _punched_ Francis in the gut.

The Frenchman wheezed and staggered back, Matthew mumbling a ‘serves you right’, and Alfred didn’t know whether to hysterically laugh or cry at everyone’s expressions. Feliks and Toris looked a little amused if not horrified, Matthew looked a little jealous, and Francis looked _so_ offended.

It didn’t manage to beat Arthur’s smug, albeit irritated, look, however, and Alfred marvelled at the mirth in the other’s bright emerald eyes.

“Consider that a warning.” Arthur sneered at Francis, who moved back up and straightened his hands over his shirt, looking a little like a disgruntled cat. Despite having been rejected so harshly, he offered the Brit a bright smile, winking. 

“You are not very pleasant, are you, _rosbif_?”

“Bite me, frog.”

Alfred jumped up as he saw Francis smirking in that perverted way of his, clapping his hands.

“Right!” He almost yelled, getting everyone’s attention. “So this is Arthur. Are y’all satisfied now? I’m so sorry, Artie.”

The nickname slipped out before he realized, and he slapped his hand over his mouth. This prompted some weird looks from his friends, who probably had no idea of what implications this could have, and Arthur looked very annoyed with him.

“It’s _Arthur_ , you impertinent oaf.”

Right, so obviously Arthur was a little annoyed with the current situation after all. He couldn’t blame him, were it Alfred in his place, he would feel horribly awkward. Somehow the idea of Arthur, a demon, feeling awkward, was hilarious.

“Oops. Would you look at the time! Why don’t you lot scram, huh?”

His friends looked a little unimpressed at him, but Matthew had already stomped over to Francis to grab him by the arm roughly, a rather angry look directed at his date.

“Nice to meet you Arthur, but we really need to go.” Matthew said, not sounding apologetic at all, before all but dragging Francis out of the room, the Frenchman’s coo’s and apologies sounding all the way through the hallway until they left the dorm.

Feliks and Toris stood up too, Toris already retrieving his and Feliks’ stuff whilst the Polish boy gave Arthur another look over.

“You were right, Alfred, he is like, pretty hot! Though the clothes are like, a bit stuffy. We should go shopping sometime.” Feliks suggested, directing the last part to the Brit, who raised his impressionable eyebrows a little higher at that, looking down at his attire to see what was wrong with it.

Alfred blushed a bright red at the first comment however, hoping it flew over Arthur’s head, and grabbed Feliks, pushing him into the hallway. After a quick goodbye and a few shoves, he managed to get the couple out of his door, slamming it closed and swallowing nervously.

Heading back to the living room, he saw Arthur had taken off his vest and stared at it with an unreadable expression.

“What in the world did that boy mean? Stuffy? Has he looked in a mirror? I wasn’t aware boys dressed like girls these days.”

Alfred couldn’t help it – the disgruntled expression on Arthur looked so _human_ , as well as what had just transpired in the room, and he laughed. Trying to get his giggles under control when he noticed Arthur impatiently glaring, he shook his head quickly.

“It’s called crossdressing, I’m fairly sure it’s always been a trend.” Oh man, he hoped Arthur wasn’t discriminating. But it looked more as if Arthur was just genuinely confused. “As for stuffy… I don’t know, usually only old men wear sweater vests.”

At Arthur’s raised eyebrow, Alfred quickly raised his hands. “Not that there is anything wrong with you wearing them! I don’t think you look stuffy.”

“I grasped that,” Arthur said, smirking. “Hot, Alfred?”

Oh man, the way Arthur drawled out his name sent shivers up Alfred’s spine. Feeling strangely cornered, Alfred giggled nervously, lowering his hands slowly. A small silence followed as Alfred looked everywhere but Arthur, aware of the man smugly smirking still, and Alfred raved his mind for a change of subject.

“So, hey! Everyone’s gone. You can go back to your normal self, haha! Bet that disguise is uncomfortable.”

“Why would it be uncomfortable?”

“Because… you gotta hide it and stuff?”

Arthur gave him a flat look before approaching him, coming to stop right in front of Alfred. Alfred was acutely aware of their closeness, and swallowed heavily as his eyes connected with Arthur’s again. This was probably one of the longest conversations they have had in all their time together, and he wanted it to last a little longer.

“I am not _hiding_ it.” Arthur said simply, grabbing Alfred’s hand. His touch was warm, and his hands were oddly soft and calloused, and Alfred wanted to be stuck in that moment. Even though it was creepy and weird and something was probably _really_ wrong with Alfred.

He let Arthur guide his hand to the air next to Arthur’s hipbone. Instantly he felt his wrist being circled by something thin and leathery-feeling, and he yelped in alarm as he tried to yank his hand back. The invisible cord released his wrist smoothly, fluttering against his pulse point for a moment before disappearing.

“Was that your tail?”

“I am merely using an illusion. All my parts are still there, I assure you.”

Instinctively, Alfred reached out for where he thought Arthur’s wings had to be, out of pure curiosity. He was met with nothing but air and Arthur glared a little, and Alfred realized he had probably had his wings folded. Alfred remembered Arthur often folding his wings, probably because he’d bump into everything otherwise.

“Right. Neat.” Alfred said, quickly taking his hovering hand back. “So eh, yeah, sorry for my friends. Though Francis isn’t my friend. He’s just luggage. In fact, you have my permission to beat him up.”

Arthur looked at him, unreadable expression on his face, and Alfred nervously licked his lips. He hadn’t been lying – he was pretty pissed at Francis for flirting with Arthur whilst Mattie was in the same room, and perhaps also a little because it was Arthur and… Alfred just didn’t want Francis flirting with him, done. Besides, he was protecting Francis too! Who knew what would happen if Francis took it any further.

“Anyway, I don’t mind the whole demon-look.” Alfred quickly said, changing the subject back to Arthur’s appearance.

“That is rather odd. I would assume you would feel safer if I were to look like this, after all. Or is it because I am your type, that you feel more nervous now?”

“Woah, dude, breach of privacy here!” Alfred exclaimed – he had _not_ told Arthur about his type, and the only way he could know was if Arthur had been listening in to him and his friends. Arthur smiled smugly. “And don’t worry, I feel equally unsafe no matter what you look like.”

“Peculiar. Our contract states I will not hurt you, does it not? No matter. Good evening, Alfred.”

Alfred watched as Arthur offered him a gentle smile that made him feel weird all over, before stepping back and turning around as he headed over to the spare bedroom. Alfred was struck with wanting Arthur to stay and spend more time with him.

Because, let’s face it, despite being creepy and making Alfred feel kind of as if he was going to die any moment, he was also _interesting._ And dangerous was a little exciting, too. Alfred wasn’t going to admit it to the man, but he wanted to ask so many questions, wanted to know so much more from the Brit. And for some reason, Arthur seemed pretty mellow this evening (perhaps he had always been mellow, but Alfred had always been on edge too much), and now was just the perfect opportunity, right?

“Wait!” He all but cried out. Arthur turned around smoothly with a questioning expression, and Alfred hoped he wasn’t going to ramble or have a word-vomit or something.  _Keep it simple, Jones_. “Do you have something to do? I mean, if not, we could… hang out or something? Have a roommate night, get to know each other, and stuff.”

Oh man, this sounded so embarrassing. Alfred felt as if he were thirteen again, awkwardly asking the girl in class he liked out and being rejected.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, young Alfred had been rejected. Probably had something to do with him having asthma, having glasses, _and_ having braces. Thank every God willing to listen the braces went out and the asthma lessened. He could use contacts, but he liked the glasses (they morphed his baby-face into something more masculine, after all).

Whilst Alfred had an internal crisis about the awkwardness, Arthur simply nodded. The movement made Alfred’s train of thought stop short, realizing there was nothing to be embarrassed about as Arthur was already making his way to the couch, making himself comfortable.

Right.

_Right._

“I’m going to get something to drink and eat. Do you want any? Of course you don’t. You don’t eat. Or do you want to? You can if you want-“

“Alfred.” Arthur deadpanned, and Alfred promptly shut up. “Some tea, please.” He didn’t _have_ any tea, what was he going to do- “There is some Earl Grey in the cabinet next to the fridge.”

In the kitchen, Alfred gathered his thought. He didn’t have to be so nervous, damn it. Arthur was right – the contract stated that Arthur wasn’t going to hurt him, and whilst Alfred knew nothing was stopping Arthur from breaching it, he had to have some faith. And Alfred was determined to at least be amicable with the other, so he steeled his nerves and prepared for a long evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enchanté - Nice to meet you 
> 
> Also, no, aside from some flirtation there will be no (onesided) FrUk.. France is all Canada's!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyeee an update.   
> I want to warn people, by the way (well... warn, you lot are probably going to be excited over this lol), that I'll have their -physical- relationship evolve pretty quickly. ((((Even though I am terrible at smut rip me))) Alfred is just a hormonal adolescent with healthy kinks (don't we all), and Arthur is... Arthur. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> Also some fandom bashing in this chapter, I love you guys anyway.

It had been a _long_ week.

Some people always thought the starts of the semesters were relaxing and easy, but Alfred thought they were the most stressful. He wanted to be on top of everything immediately, and that required some work. Granted, this way he would experience less stress throughout the semester, so it was a necessary evil.

That week, Alfred had often locked himself in his room to prepare and make notes. He was forever grateful that Arthur didn’t seem to be bothered by Tony, though they weren’t exactly best friends either. Tony would move for Arthur, and Arthur would not touch Tony, and all was well.

Alfred chewed on his lower lip as he finished writing up a rough plan of an essay he had to do sometime later, finally clicking all the documents closed. He was met with Facebook and several other internet tabs, and he took to clicking the ones he didn’t need closed until only the social media and a documentary on aliens remained.

Aliens were totally cool, okay? And real.

Would Arthur know anything about aliens? And if they did, were there alien devils too? Alien hell and alien heaven? Alfred would have to ask him.

Ever since their ‘room-mate’ night, as Alfred had dubbed it, life with Arthur had been very different. For starters, Alfred was able to relax more, fairly certain by now that Arthur didn’t have plans to inhumanely do him in or something.

In fact, it had even been fun, after the initial awkwardness on his side dissipated. Arthur had even cracked a smile once or twice at his stupid jokes, and they had an easy banter-like thing going for them now.

Of course there was only one thing he could really do that evening, lest he disappoint every demon-fan in the world. He introduced Arthur to Supernatural, a few hours into their conversations. Arthur hadn’t been very keen on sharing information or answering questions that Alfred had, and Alfred figured that perhaps this was a way to acquire some facts.

And he had been right. The entire week afterwards, he heard faint cursing coming from the living room at night as he sat in his room preparing for his classes. Arthur was binge-watching all the seasons every time he came home from doing whatever, complaining about the inaccuracies.

So far Alfred learned that yes, salt really was ineffective, and no, strange pentagram markings on the ground didn’t capture demonic beings. Their eyes didn’t turn black either, but instead glowed (Alfred had managed to ask _so what do your eyes do then_ when Arthur was too invested in the show). And there was no such thing as a powerful demon-killing knife either, at least not as far as Arthur was concerned, though he wasn’t willing to indulge in what _could_ kill a demon… Alfred could understand that one.

He was pulled from his musings when he heard loud complaining coming from the living room. Grabbing his empty mug of coffee, he walked into the other room and was not very surprised to see Arthur on the couch again.

The image was getting kind of familiar to him. If Arthur was not roaming the apartment, or was not out doing whatever, he was often on the couch reading a book or watching television.

Having lived in Hell for so long apparently made a demon very curious about all the new developments, despite Arthur clearly knowing the details already. Alfred often found himself watching Arthur, who was looking at documentaries, movies and series, eyes shining with childlike curiosity.

It was so terribly out of character and Alfred was riveted by its adorableness.

Even though he didn’t need to eat, Arthur was munching on some chocolate chip cookies, a cup of tea resting on the coffee table in front of him. The television continued on with the show, and what a surprise, it was Supernatural.  He seemed to be advancing quickly too, already having met everyone’s favourite angel.

Dean Winchester was giving it his best whilst fighting with the King of Hell himself, and apparently it had gotten a rise out of the demon on his couch.

“What’s the matter, Artie?” Alfred asked jovially, returning from the kitchen.

He realized his slip up, but he also knew that if Arthur was invested in something (often books or television shows), that the nickname would pass by without any trouble. Predictively, Arthur didn’t even glare at him.

It’s what he called Arthur in his head, and his mouth usually didn’t have a censor. Well, not for stuff like nicknames, anyway.

“This bloody show is insanely inaccurate. A _king_ of Hell? If only the place were that sophisticated! And what is up with that stupid giant of a man looking so sad all of the time? Why won’t Dean just leave the drama queen already? He obviously has it bad for that angel too, which is even _more_ inaccurate. They don’t _rescue_ people out of the pits of hell, how ludicrous.”

Alfred started laughing, moving around the couch to sit down as well. Only once he sat down, did it actually catch up to him – no king of Hell? Snatching the remote he paused the series.

“Wait, what?” He asked, turning to Arthur. Arthur glared at him for pausing the series, but he knew that he could easily grab the remote back. If Arthur would indulge him with his questions, that was fine with him. “You guys don’t have a king? No Lucifer?”

“Of course not.” Arthur exclaimed impatiently. “Lucifer hasn’t been around since the Dark Ages, probably murdered or something, the poor sod.”

“But… don’t you guys need a system or something? For order? Laws to enforce and stuff?”

“Order? Are you hearing yourself? We’re bloody _demons_.”

Okay, Alfred could kind of see the point.

“We do as we please. Should we be wronged by another, we kill them or get killed. It’s really just the survival of the fittest.”

“What about the angels?” Arthur looked at him weirdly for a moment.  “Dude, there’s a demon living in my fucking dorm, I think I can handle some more ground-breaking information. So is there a God?”

“What _is_ God, anyway?” Arthur said with a mysterious smirk. “If you’re asking me if there is some kind of boss up there with the cuddly bunnies, then I don’t know. I suppose your prophets could have been angels looking for popularity. After all, you humans are so easy to mislead.”

Alfred was an atheist, but hearing it from a rather trustful source was still weird. There were so many questions on his mind – was Jesus real, was Moses real, was there ever an Ark of Noah? He knew Arthur would never respond to them however, and he idly wondered if Arthur was simply not allowed to tell him. Perhaps it was just programmed into the other or something.

Besides, he wasn’t going to risk the flow of information coming from his roommate right now. Usually Arthur didn’t even indulge him this much.

“Have you ever met an angel?”

“Meet one of them, meet all of them. Self-righteous jerks. They taste delicious however.”

Alfred shuddered at the smug tone Arthur’s voice took, and was wondering whether Arthur meant it in an eating-sense or an… _eating_ -sense. He wasn’t going to ask.

 “It’s the fallen ones I pity. Once down there, they usually never survive longer than a day. Unless someone stronger would claim them as a slave or a mate, of course.”

Alfred winced. Of course. As  if it were a perfectly normal thing to do on a perfectly normal Friday.

He didn’t know what Hell looked like, didn’t know if all the demons looked like Arthur – you know, pretty much human if you count out the wings and stuff, but his imagination had always been wild. Right now he saw a Disney Hercules kind of Underworld with poor little angels falling into that creepy river, being devoured by hungry soulless bastards.

“How do you fall as an angel?”

Arthur looked doubtful for a second, and Alfred wanted to ask why or perhaps take his question back, when it was answered anyway.

“Committing a sin will do you in.” He said. “I never met many fallen angels. As I said, they usually die in a matter of hours. One was taken in by a fellow demon, as a mate. He never spoke much of Heaven. I assume getting your wings ripped off will do that to you.”

Alfred whistled, the image an unpleasant one. Still…

 “I wish I could see it. You know, heaven, hell.”

“You _wish_ to see hell?” Arthur asked, expression changing to surprise and suspicion in a blink. “I cannot take you there. The temperature alone would make your insides boil in a second.”

The image of being boiled from the inside out was a little gruesome.

Yet the notion that Arthur wasn’t denying letting him see Hell, because it would be bothersome, but because it would kill him, made Alfred feel a little giddy.

Alfred chuckled nervously. “It’s just, I always had these ideas about angels and demons and whatnot. Because of stuff like this,” He waved towards the paused screen in front of them. “And now you just tell me all these things that don’t fit in.”

“Perhaps I should not have told you as much as I have.” Arthur mused, looking a little conflicted.

Shit, shit, this was the breaking point Alfred was afraid of. He had managed to get into a weird kind of friendship with the demon and he definitely wanted to keep progressing it (he was _so_ planning on writing a book or something).

“No! No, I want to hear. It’s totally awesome. Who else has this chance, y’know? And if it means getting eaten or something later on, well, every man thirsts for knowledge.”

“I wish you would stop thinking I am going to eat you.” Arthur said, rolling his eyes. He gave Alfred an appraising look and his expression turned suggestive rather quickly, a smug smirk on his face. “Unless that _is_ your desire.”

Alfred swallowed, tongue feeling heavy in his mouth at the look Arthur was giving him.

That was another thing. The demon apparently had no qualms in showing he had… some kind of _interest_. Alfred didn’t mind it enough to be freaked out about it, but still. He doubted Arthur’s interest was the same kind of interest a fellow human in a club would have.

The temperature of the room must have risen because he felt warm and uncomfortable, noticing the rather small distance between him and Arthur and how Arthur’s eyes were half-lidded in curiosity.  He couldn’t help but lower his gaze as Arthur wetted his lips, fangs peeking out from behind those lips, dangerous yet inviting and-

“Are you an incubus?”

Alfred was as surprised as Arthur was at his question. Arthur however, threw his head back a little and started to laugh. The sound was like music to Alfred’s ears – it wasn’t the usual condescending laugh or the smug chuckle, it sounded genuine and joyful.

“You're as bright as a black hole, and twice as dense, aren’t you?”

“Hey!” Alfred said, feeling defensive. “It’s not a weird question. You managed to charm the pants off from the Frenchy pants and Feliks with just the blink of an eye. And I _know_ you’re not Feliks’ type.”

 “Is that so?”

“Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“Would it make you feel better if I was an incubus? For you to know your sinful attraction towards me is not your own fault?” Arthur purred, cocking his head a little as he grinned.

 Alfred didn’t really think there was anything sinful about his attraction – he should think that, scratch that. He was more embarrassed that apparently _his_ interest in the demon was also obvious to Arthur.

Though he suspected Arthur was just reading his mind or something. Alfred had never been very obvious. Oh man, perhaps Arthur could smell hormones or something. He read something about that in a kinky fanfiction once. He wouldn’t put it past him.

Still, Alfred didn’t act on his feelings. They weren’t serious – Arthur was just interesting, alluring and dangerous, and definitely a no-go area. Alfred just needed to get laid sometime soon, and all this would blow away to make place for more rational thoughts.

So instead of admitting his faults, Alfred sniffed in denial.

 “You need not worry. Incubi or succubi, they do not often leave hell. They only crave one thing, and more often than not mate with each other or other demons.” But they existed. That was kind of cool. And scary. Arthur smirked. “Don’t worry. No evil being dare enter this house whilst I am in it.”

“I’m not scared!” Alfred complained. It was a rather comforting idea however – if the worst that could happen was the being sitting next to him, well, Alfred could get into the masochistic thing if it involved the British demon.

_Wait, what?_

The conversation was obviously over as Arthur waved his hand and retrieved the remote out of his own, clicking at it to start the show on the television again. Which was a weird feeling to be honest. Smoke encompassed his hand as the remote was removed from it, tugging slightly at his skin.

Alfred sighed, resigning himself to watching the wonderful adventures of the Winchesters brothers as well, but not before snatching the chocolate chip cookies and stuffing his face with them.

It was more fun to watch Arthur’s face and reactions to the series however, than it was to re-watch everything, so he did just that. He had already established that Arthur apparently didn’t mind Alfred gawking at him now and then.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Alfred noticed Arthur’s wing twitching a little as Arthur smirked over some stupid thing happening on screen. They were folded neatly against Arthur’s back, and for some reason didn’t rip through the shirt Arthur was wearing.

Alfred figured it was some kind of magic, allowing the wings to morph through the shirt as if he were Kitty from X-Men.

He slid his eyes upwards to Arthur’s hairs and the two horns sticking out of them. They weren’t very big, but prominent enough. In a fit of lewdness, Alfred realized they would be perfect to grab onto. Shaking the thought from his head lest Arthur realize it, he bit his cheeks and instead focused back on the wings.

He was in the midst of conjuring all kinds of awesome Halloween plans that Arthur definitely had to work along with, when he was jolted out of his fantasy by knocking on the front door.

Alfred cleared his throat when Arthur didn’t notice, successfully dragging Arthur’s attention towards him. The red headed demon raised his eyebrows and Alfred nodded over to the door. Arthur grunted in acknowledgement, turning back to the screen, as Alfred watched in awe as the demon's hair bled out into a blonde colour, wings shimmering out of sight.

Satisfied with that at least, he finally stood up and went to answer the door. The knocking had gotten excessively loud at that point, and when he finally swung the door open he was almost hit in the face by an impatient Feliks.

“You’re not going dressed like _that_.” Feliks announced once he gave Alfred a one-over.

“What’s wrong with this?”

It was just a bar-party with some karaoke, it wasn’t as if he was going to someone’s wedding, geeze.

“You look like a dirty student.”

Out of the living room, a snort was heard, and Feliks visibly lightened up. He all but pushed Alfred out of the way and entered the dorm, Toris following with an apologetic smile. Alfred muttered a ‘come in, then’, as he and his Lithuanian friend followed the Polish guy to the living room.

An adorable yet odd thing, was that Feliks had somehow taken kindly to Arthur (it bordered on a high school crush), whilst Arthur obviously wasn’t very comfortable with the extravagant Pole.

“Hiya Arthur! Are you, like, coming with us?”

“No.”

This time Alfred snorted, the disheartened look on Feliks’ face appearing for a second or so at Arthur’s brisk response. Feliks glared at him and then approached him once more, pushing him in the direction of his own room.

Once inside, he waltzed over to Alfred’s closet and started pulling things out.

“My god, Alfred, are you having like, a _phase_ or something?” Feliks asked incredulously as he pulled out what had to be the tenth superhero shirt. The pile was mainly dominated by Captain America, and Alfred scowled as he picked up to neatly fold a Deadpool shirt.

It wasn’t a phase. Not if he had been in it since childhood. Hey, superheroes were totally awesome!

Alfred sighed as a set of clothes was thrown at his head. A plaid shirt with a black tank top underneath it. Not something Alfred would have chosen, but fine. It didn’t really matter to him how he looked anyway – for example, if he wanted to get lucky, he relied solely on his charms and face. Worked every time.

He ignored Feliks’ appreciative wolf whistle as he quickly changed out of the shirt he was wearing (Feliks was right, it was kind of dirty) and into the new set, changing into a new pair of jeans too while he was at it anyway.

“Happy now?”

“Never, but this will do.”

Alfred good naturedly shoved Feliks out of his room then, back into the living room where Toris was still awkwardly standing around. He pushed Feliks and Toris towards the hallway whilst making a quick dart for the bathroom – gotta check if his face was still okay – before returning and grabbing his stuff.

“It’ll be, like, fun!” Feliks crowed, obviously still trying to convince Arthur.

Alfred huffed a little, he had told Feliks before that Arthur didn’t appreciate people bothering him, yet Feliks didn’t heed his warning at all. And it wasn’t as if he wanted Arthur to come along, either. Can you imagine? That would turn out to be horrible.

“I have plans.” Arthur commented, voice laced with a little annoyance.

“Really?” Alfred asked, interest piqued. He made it sound as if Arthur never had any plans, he realized. To be honest, Alfred knew Arthur basically _always_ had plans. What those plans were, he didn’t know. “What kind of plans?”

Seeing as Feliks was also listening curiously, Arthur wasn’t really able to take the easy way out and snap at Alfred to shut up.

Arthur paused the series once more, the screen being hilariously stuck on one of the younger Winchester’s famous ‘bitch-faces’.

“I am meeting a friend.”

A friend.

_A friend?!_

Alfred almost wanted to shout that Arthur didn’t have any friends, right? Before realizing that would not only be offensive considering he had to fake who Arthur was, but also just weird because he was supposed to know Arthur.

He had to be tactful here.

“Okay, nice. Which one?”

Arthur offered him a playful smirk, knowing what kind of game he was playing.

“One of my _old_ friends. From back _home_.”

Holy- that meant another demon. Alfred wasn’t even aware of there living any other kind of demonic being in the town. Or perhaps they didn’t and this one just visited Arthur. But how cool was that! Alfred kind of wanted to meet this friend. Danger aside.

“From England, right?” Feliks quipped in helpfully, wandering back in to see what was taking Alfred so long. Right. Alfred had told them Arthur was from England. Arthur, in on the lie, helpfully nodded.

“Yes, well, we should go.” Alfred immediately interrupted, seeing Feliks wanted to continue his interrogation.

Arthur looked over his shoulder, locking eyes with Alfred. He gave him a once-over and smirked appreciatevely, eyes drooping shut half-way in a way that always made Alfred’s stomach stutter.

“You clean up well, don’t you?”

Alfred grimaced, ignoring the obvious compliment and instead taking it as a reminder that he really did look like a dirty student just now. He flipped Arthur off with a grin, whom in return rolled his eyes, and _finally_ left the dorm with his friends.  


* * *

 

The bar they met at for the karaoke event was one of Alfred’s favourite ones. True, he didn’t go out drinking as much as people expected him to (student life, and stuff), but he always preferred bars and pubs over clubs.

Sure, the loud music and the close proximity dancing with other people had its charms, but in places like this he had the feeling he could unwind a little. He already knew that next month, during Halloween, one of those huge parties would be thrown, and that was enough for him until New Year’s.

“Ivan, my man!” Alfred grinned widely as he bumped into his Russian friend, clasping him by his upper arm in greeting as Ivan did the same. “Long time no see.”

“ _Da_ , you know how it is. How is life, comrade?”

Ivan becoming his friend was perhaps one of the strangest developments Alfred  experienced since he had moved out of his parents’ house. At first, they were basically enemies, rivalling in literally everything.

They didn’t even partake in the same study, but somehow they ran into each other everywhere. It didn’t help that they had a lot of mutual friends – Toris for example, was a close friend of Alfred’s _and_ Ivan’s.

Eventually they overcame their differences when they noticed their similarities, and started going to the gym together. Ivan was probably one of the only people in his group of friends who could keep up with him, stamina wise, so he made for a good fitness partner.

From there on, their friendship blossomed, for lack of better words. Going to the gym together evolved into going to drink together, which evolved into gossiping about campus, and before Alfred knew it, he had spent the night on the Russian’s couch after a drink too many.

“Good, good.” Alfred nodded, releasing his friend in favour of turning to the bar, where they were standing at. He signalled for the bartender, ordering his drink. At times like these, he was forever grateful for the convincing fake ID his Danish friend provided him with. Being nineteen sucked.

“I heard you have a new roommate?”

“Yeah, I do. About time too, rent was kicking my ass.”

“I can imagine. What’s he like?”

Alfred shrugged, trying not to get caught gazing dreamily or acting all suspicious-like. It was surprisingly easy to lie to everyone about Arthur, but that made him even more anxious for any slip ups.

“Cool, I guess. But hey! How are things with…Yoa?”

“Yao.” Ivan corrected with his trademark eerie smile. It didn’t unnerve Alfred anymore, fortunately. “Things are good. I am taking him to meet my family next week.”

“Wow! Good on you.” Alfred laughed, congratulating the other.

Ever since the Chinese exchange student started studying at their college this year, Ivan had been head over heels. The unfortunate thing was, that if Ivan was head over heels over someone, that he would start to act a little… creepy.

It resulted in a few nights sulking and drinking with his American friend, until Alfred finally couldn’t handle it anymore. He gave the Russian some pointers here and there, even though he had never even seen the Chinese guy. Except for his rather difficult name, Alfred did in fact feel as if he knew all there was to know about the guy. Oh well, it was fun listening to his usually eerie and calm friend ramble on about someone.

Meeting the family though, wow. Ivan’s family was nuts. Alfred didn’t really like them. He never met his parents, they still lived in Russia. His two sisters moved with him, however.

Sofia was kind of a… well, there was no way to put it kindly, but she was an airhead. Pretty, though. Big boobs. Ivan would kill him if he ever revealed that thought. Definitely the favourite sister, too.

And Natalya… Alfred was on tentatively friendly terms with her. She had the biggest crush on Ivan, which was all sorts of Game of Thrones weird. After that she had apparently set her eyes on Alfred, which creeped him out a little. She was fun to hang out with, but no _way_ would he ever date her.

He was fairly certain she had been chanting a mantra of marriage proposals once when she was tipsy, to Ivan. So yeah. Complete whacko. In the back of his head he hoped she wouldn’t kill this Chinese guy.

Two hours later, and Alfred thought he had seen it all. He had witnessed an incredibly hilarious romantic duet with Feliciano and Feliks, a badass rock song with Mathias and his amazing (not) air-guitar skills, and some other novelties. For example, Ivan belting out a Russian song because he was completely drunk (and he wasn’t even on stage, he was on the _bar_ ), and once Matthew had arrived, he and his cousin had offered a pretty kick-ass edition of a Bon Jovi song.

All in all, it was a good night already. He was done with the karaoke however, the people getting more and more awful as the night and the alcohol consumption progressed.

They had safely secured Ivan from the bar and onto a stool, Toris diligently keeping him company. Alfred dragged himself on a stool at a round table, accompanied by Mathias, Feliks, and some others.

“Get this, Mathias has, like, a new roommate too!” Feliks chirped happily, sipping his glass with pink stuff.

Mathias sighed dreamily, to which Alfred raised his eyebrows in question. The Dane went off into a tale of how beautiful his roommate was and how cute and all that jazz. In the end, all Alfred really remembered, was that they were definitely sleeping together, though Mathias would get his ass kicked if he would refer to this roommate (Lukas?) as his boyfriend or whatever.

“So where is he?” Alfred asked when Mathias finally finished his ramble. Mathias pouted sullenly.

“With his own friends, but I’ll get him to come sometime.” Mathias snorted. “Well I already got him to-“

“We get it, Mathias.” Alfred deadpanned, sending the Dane into a fit of giggles, almost slipping of the stool. Alfred snickered – he felt pretty buzzed himself, but he could usually hold his liquor really well.

But tonight was apparently not one of those nights.

Later, Alfred would blame it on all the stress he had been experiencing the last few days. He could have easily stopped when Mathias challenged him to a battle of shots, but Alfred never backed away from a challenge, and it felt seriously  _good_ to just let go after all the crazy shit that happened. 

Matthew and Toris grunted as they both had an arm underneath Alfred’s, slowly dragging him down the hallway. Feliks, drunk too, danced behind them and sang rather weird versions of Disney songs as Alfred dreamily told everyone everything he knew about space.

“And, another thing,” He drawled, waving a finger around. “You can become taller in space, y’know? The spine lengthens or something, because of gravity. How sick is that! I can totally outgrow that commie…”

Matthew chuckled. “Only about five centimetres, Alfie, he beats you by seven.” Alfred whined, both for having the childish nickname hurled at him and for the fact about his Russian friend.

“Whatever Mattie, you’re totally jealous I’m bigger than you.”

“We’re the same height!”

Alfred wrenched his arm free from Matthew and pointed to his lips in a shushing moment. Matthew cocked an eyebrow as Toris single-handedly tried to drag the heavy American across the hallway, Matthew following.

“I didn’t mean _height_.” Alfred said, dissolving into a fit of childish giggles so quickly that his words were kind of hard to hear. He felt a soft slap on the back of his head as Matthew obviously retaliated, before they reached a familiar door.

Alfred wrenched free from his friend and shoved his hand into his pocket, retrieving his keys. He fumbled around with it for too long though, Matthew sighing exasperatedly and taking them from him to open the door.

“Be quiet, you oaf.” Matthew chided, albeit affectionately, when Alfred all but burst into the dorm and hallway, knocking against the wall. “Arthur’s probably asleep.”

“Who?” Oh yeah, Arthur. “Oooooh.” Alfred said smartly, making another shushing noise. “Artie. Yeah, we better not wake Artie up. He might kill us.”

Alfred nodded seriously, wondering why the others looked at him with amused expressions. It was true, Arthur could totally kill them with a snap of his fingers. Idiots. He toed off his sneakers and tripped only about two or three times before he finally reached his bedroom.

He heard Matthew and Toris bid their goodbyes and only groaned in return, head hitting his pillow and Tony indignantly meowing as he was almost squashed underneath his weight. The door shut and almost instantly it was dead quiet, Alfred keeping his face stuffed against his pillow until breathing became a little difficult.

He rolled around with much difficulty, feeling very heavy and lazy, and stared up at the ceiling. Alfred didn’t know how long he lied there, staring up at the ceiling and pondering drunken thoughts. Why hadn’t he studied something for space, anyway? He’d be a cool astronaut.

But _nooooo_ , Alfred had opted to take a safer route. How lame and boring of him. God, he was becoming his father.

 “Now isn’t the time for an exit…. Exist..entional… no that isn’t it. Exist- oh fuck it. For a crisis.” Alfred firmly told himself. What was the word anyway? Perhaps Arthur would know. “Arthur!” He called out, completely forgetting his initial fear of waking the other up with rowdy behaviour.

There was no answer however, and he sullenly realized Arthur wasn’t back home yet. He was with his demon friend being all demon friendly.

_Oh god_ , what if they were being… _friendly_?

Alfred scowled at the ceiling at the unfamiliar feeling of jealousy. What the hell? He knew Arthur for a grand total of two weeks, or something. He had no right to get possessive. Even if the man was kind of cute.

_And a demon, Alfred, get your facts straight._

Though would it really be so terrible to just admit his attraction to the other? So what if he got kink-shamed? People had a lot more terrible kinks. Look at all those Bronies, for instance! Alfred would never sexualise a children series about cartoon ponies. And demons weren’t a bad topic either. Hell, even in Supernatural people were worse. What about that episode with the convention and all the Dean and Sam fanfictions? That had to be worse than what he was experiencing.

At least Arthur was hot too, not like Lucifer or that old man Crowley. The only thing they shared was that hot British accent. And Arthur’s voice was _so_ velvety. And those eyes, Alfred could have sung a song at the karaoke bar about those eyes.

Alfred licked his lips as he thought about his roommate. For some reason, the demonic appearance in which Arthur always strutted about didn’t put him off at all, either. Even if it were slightly unnatural, what with how they seemed to shift through the clothing without tearing.

Oh, but what would he look like _without_ clothing?

He frowned and eyed the slightly ajar door. He really didn’t feel like standing up and closing it, and well, perhaps Tony needed to get out sometime tonight. And Arthur _wasn’t_ home… or wasn’t awake. Either would be good.

Alfred looked back up to the ceiling – boy, Arthur would probably look really good without clothes. He was aware that in his drunken haze he was thinking stuff he probably shouldn’t be thinking about, but right now, all caution flew out of the window. He could just imagine Arthur’s skin – his hands and face were such a perfect, clear and milky white. His entire body was probably just as pale, though he could imagine scarring if what he said about his… home… was true. Honestly, a few scars would just add to the Brit’s charm.

And those wings and tail – how would that even look? Would there be a malformed piece of skin around them, or would there be slight webbing such as with bats? Would they just pop out randomly?

Alfred wondered what it would feel like to touch Arthur’s wings – no, he wondered how it would feel if someone were to touch your wings like that. Or his  _tail_. Alfred wanted to touch the man's tail. Would it be sensitive at the base? How would Arthur react? Would he moan or growl or- oh, Alfred could imagine the sounds Arthur would be capable of making.

Aware that there was probably a whole section of the internet devoted to this kind of dirty, fantasy stuff, Alfred cursed as he shifted a little and noticed his problem. His jeans had gotten incredibly tight, so he promptly took them off and discarded them on the floor, glaring at the tent in his boxers.

Well… Arthur wasn’t home. What harm could there be?

_Plenty, Alfred, just don’t think about your roommate._

Yet as Alfred groaned in resignation and reached down to grab himself, all he could see was red hair and green eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hbjhjbjkbghb sorry for the long wait, guys.

After that rather embarrassing, slightly drunken night Alfred didn’t want to think about anymore, Alfred made it his mission to not act any differently.

He never had to work out this mission, because Arthur hadn’t returned to the dorm for another two days. By then, Alfred’s adolescent brain had already found new things to be embarrassed about, for example the fact he accidentally slipped on two different kinds of sneakers when he was late for class one day.

Right now, all he wanted was to forget everything and game. He had the entire weekend ahead of him, and because he had been drowning himself in schoolwork in Arthur’s absence, he was actually _free_ to do so. He was going to spend at least half of this free time in his underwear, in front of his PlayStation 4, preferably with an insane amount of takeout.

Which, hello. McDonalds should totally do delivery. Alfred wasn’t up to leaving the building but he really wanted that Mickey D right now.

Sighing at these circumstances, Alfred decided some good old fashioned Call of Duty might cheer him up. Blowing people to bits kind of did wonders for your mood sometimes, you know? That wasn’t strange or anything. Besides, he had to take a break from Overwatch. Those new skins were awful and he still felt a little betrayed by his co-players during his last session.  What was so hard about following the objective? God, he could get worked up just thinking about it. So, Call of Duty it is.

He’d been going at it wonderfully for at least three hours when his roommate returned. He didn’t pay him too much attention because he was in the midst of showing some nine-year-old kids who the real boss here was, and Arthur tattered around the house for a while before sitting on the couch and… watching him.

Rather intensely, which unnerved Alfred a little. He decided that whatever Arthur had to say could wait and continued on with game, not stopping until some stupid kid finally managed to bomb the shit out of him. Sighing as the game replayed his own death, he removed his headphones and put the controller down after exiting the session. He turned back to Arthur, who was now also looking at the screen with curiosity.

“You enjoy playing these games?”

Well, yes, Alfred would think that was rather clear. Arthur had been living with him for a while now. Alfred shrugged – he was a bigger fan of RPG to be honest but sure, whatever. He debated starting a new game (that blonde boy and the muscular dude in that new Final Fantasy game had him purchasing the game the moment it came out, but he hadn’t had the opportunity to play it yet) when it became clear Arthur wasn’t here for a conversation, when a question that had been bothering him for a while now resurfaced.

 “So, Arthur,” He started nonchalantly, feeling giddy as Arthur’s eyes snapped back to him acutely. “How does one become a demon anyway?”

There was a pregnant pause between them, Arthur’s eyebrows lowering a little as he frowned at the human in front of him.  The ‘why’ was clear in the other’s expression, but Alfred wasn’t going to give in and start rambling again – that would give Arthur a way out as usual. Eventually  Arthur relented, looking a little annoyed.

“By dying.”

“Does that mean you were human before this?” Alfred asked, waving at Arthur’s appearance. Perhaps the blonde hair and the dimmer green eyes were Arthur’s old appearance, then. Arthur looked at him considerately, before nodding slowly.

“Most of us used to be. Some of us were born from mankind’s sins. You would classify them as wrath, greed, pride, lust, gluttony, and so on. They’re…quite different from us, however.”

“Wicked! How, though? Just generally or only from really twisted humans?”

“I don’t know how it works.” Arthur said, amused. “But it doesn’t happen every day, so I would assume the latter. I tend to avoid them – they are annoying. No common sense whatsoever.”

“But… you were human, then? When did you die?”

He remembered Arthur saying ‘no’ on the Ouija board, and wondered where that fit in the story. Though the answer was probably more directed to the entire ‘ghost’ thing.

“I don’t remember.” Arthur said, and it sounded genuine and far-away. That had Alfred’s attention in a mere second – he watched as Arthur looked away from him and stared to the room around them with a frown. “I know I was human. All I remember is my name and appearing in Hell. But it’s been over five hundred years, and I frankly don’t care much for the past. I probably died young and of the pestilence, all things considered.”

“But _why_ a demon, then? Why not an angel? Can you be something in between?”

Arthur offered a tiny smile. It looked sweet, as if Arthur was genuinely amused with the other.

“Of course. Your actions reflect upon your afterlife.”

“Is it like Dante’s inferno, then?”

At the mention of the book, Arthur scoffed and rolled his eyes. “A limbo for people who do not accept Christ as their Lord and saviour? It is much simpler. If you commit a sin whilst your motivation for doing so is wicked, then down you go. Your strength down there is not always determined by the gravity of your sin either, weirdly enough.”

Alfred had always thought – and it was probably true – that Arthur was pretty powerful. Why else would Arthur have lived as a demon so long, whilst telling Alfred that it was a survival of the fittest down where he came from? But at least that could still mean that Arthur hadn’t been a very _bad_ human per se.

Alfred silenced in favour of his thinking, keeping his eyes locked with Arthur’s green ones. The power was kind of a cool thing to talk about – but he wondered what Arthur could have done to achieve it, either as a human or… as a demon, like fighting his way through the chain of  command or something? Survival of the fittest, and all?

For a mere second he pitied the other being. Not knowing about who you were or _why_ you are like you are must be tough.

He wondered if Hell was a place where one would make friends, too. He could hardly imagine demons being friends with each other, but Arthur had said he had mostly been down there for a few centuries before going back to the human world more permanently. That meant something down there was interesting, didn’t it? There had to be something, that something Arthur claimed to have tired off.

Arthur seemed to read his mind – could he do that? Alfred wouldn’t put it past him. “Time passes differently there.” Arthur said softly, a smile still tugging at his lips. “A week could be a year here, or the other way around. It is always a surprise to return to the surface.”

At the other’s soft expression, Alfred flushed a little and shifted. Naturally he had to let his mouth get the better of him, and he laughed nervously. “Man, I can’t believe we are actually chatting about this as if it were the weather. This is _so_ weird.”

Arthur’s soft expression contorted back into the stoic, if not annoyed kind and Alfred mourned the loss of the sweeter one. “I suppose it would be too strange for your simple mind to grasp.”

“Low blow.” Alfred frowned a little at the sour turn the mood had taken. Deciding to turn the conversation back to where it was before, he offered a smile. “So how long do you think has passed down there?”

“I haven’t the faintest. I’ll see it soon, when I return.”

“Return? Are you already going back? I thought…” he didn’t know what he thought. Arthur seemed to consider him, a faint surprised look in his eyes.

“I am merely going to visit to re-establish my position.” He said eventually. “I suppose I cannot say how many days will transpire here, but it will not be permanent.”

Alfred didn’t know why his chest fluttered with excitement upon hearing that. His mind was reeling with questions he might be able to ask now that Arthur seemed to be in a gentler mood, but everything was interrupted fairly quickly when his cell phone chimed with incoming messages. As he picked it up to check, Arthur left the room, going to do whatever.

 

* * *

 

Whilst it wasn’t odd to come home to the demon casually lounging on the couch or in the kitchen, it was definitely odd to unlock the door and hearing people talking behind it.

When he still had a human roommate, it happened often, the Australian kid often hosting small get-togethers for his friends. Alfred never really clicked with them, just as his roommate hadn’t clicked with his friends, but they all tolerated each other.

Alfred frowned – wondering who on earth could be in there. The only person who had a key aside from him was Matthew, but the boy admitted to having lost it a week prior, so Alfred still had to make a spare one. That, and his parents, but they lived a few hours from here by airplane.

 Deciding having a demon living with you was the best guard-dog you could get, Alfred shrugged and stepped into the apartment, ditching his coat and bag in the hallway.

Entering the living he was surprised to see Arthur and Matthew of all people on the couch, conversing as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

He faltered, standing in the doorway and gaping at them. Matthew had made himself quite at home, as he usually did, and Arthur _seemed_ relaxed, so that’s good. Arthur’s eyes narrowed in on him, smirking as he nodded in greeting.

“Hey guys.” Alfred stammered out as Matthew also turned to greet him. “Whatcha doin’ here Mattie?”

“Eh, I came to pick you up, remember?” At Alfred’s wide eyed look, Matthew sighed. “Dinner at the Italians? We go every month?”

Oh.

_Oh!_

They did, actually. Lovino and Feliciano were the Italian twins living a floor up, and for _some_ reason they had this ridiculously large apartment. They both loved food and cooking, and hosted dinner parties for friends every month. Alfred had been blessed to become one of their friends, because, their _food_ , man.

“What’re they making?” Alfred asked nonchalantly. The idea of the food of the Italians (and the scraps he was always able to bring home) made him slightly excited – but he had had other plans for the night, so he was having a conflict.

“Does it matter? You inhale everything regardless.”

“Yeah, well, I kinda had plans.”

Arthur snorted.

“Alfred, you were going to game in your underwear.”

“I feel so sorry for you.” Matthew said with a slight tone of disgust in his voice, his eyes sympathetically regarding Arthur. Arthur smirked, eyes still on Alfred.

“Oh, that is all right. I enjoy the view.”

“W-Well!” Alfred slapped his hands together, blush bright on his cheeks as what Arthur said immediately caught up to him. Matthew now regarded Arthur with disgust as well as Alfred, shaking his head.

“They’re making pollo alla- whatever, something with chicken. You didn’t come last time, and Lovino said that if you weren’t coming this time, you would be uninvited forever.”

“That’s mean!”

“Also, I invited Arthur as well. Everyone’s dying to meet him properly, after all.” Matthew said, waving over to his blonde roommate. Alfred looked at Arthur – the other didn’t even have to eat, how much fun was a dinner party going to be?

“You can back out Artie,” Alfred said reassuringly, winking. “They’re a bunch of idiots and-“

“I accepted?”

Oh. Okay. Alfred frowned at him, trying to ask him _why_ Arthur would possibly want to come along. Sure, his friends have been asking about Arthur since forever. Especially after Feliks went on and on about meeting him once, shrouding Arthur in an air of mystery. People have been on his back for ages, especially because Arthur did not have any social media.

Arthur didn’t look very troubled however, softly smiling at Matthew when he started talking about the Italians, and Alfred was a bit flabbergasted. It seems Arthur had actually taken a liking to his cousin, which, _weird_. And also, hello, he was right here. Why didn’t Arthur smile at him like that?

He grumbled and disappeared into his room to change his shirt for the occasion. He usually brought along something to drink, but he had kind of forgotten the event, so he hoped they didn’t mind that he came empty-handed this time.

He came out, ignored Arthur’s unimpressed once-over at Alfred’s ripped jeans and NASA T-shirt, and followed the others to the hallway so that they could go to the Italians. He fell back a little as he moved to lock the door to their apartment (it was _student_ housing, leaving the door open was just asking for trouble), and used the opportunity to stay behind and leer at Arthur’s behind.

So what? Sue him. Arthur had opted for faded jeans and a dark green button-up today, and it was a nice contrast with his blonde hair.  

He wondered, with a pang of uncertainty, what Arthur would think of the people they would meet. It was kind of important to him, he realized – those were his friends after all. He wanted every friend of his to like each other. But Feliciano as bubbly and naïve, and Lovino could be a right asshole. It was probably going to get awkward.

“Matthew! Alfred!” The door swung open to reveal Laura, a Belgium girl who has lived in the States since she was a teenager. She was older than most of them and almost done with college, and took  the job of big sister to people not yet comfortable in the complex. Which means she inevitably took a liking to the angrier one of the Italian set. Her eyes settled on Arthur with a gentle smile. “Hello, I am Laura. Nice to meet you!”

Alfred didn’t need to worry – Arthur offered a smile that made even _Alfred_ melt as he took the girl’s hand in a gentle handshake.

“The pleasure is all mine. Arthur Kirkland.”

 _Kirkland?_ Had he just made that up?

Laura obviously lost a bit of her cool, face flushing red at the words drawled out in a perfectly sinful British accent. She stuttered a come in, before feeling back into the room. Alfred huffed and muttered that h was a show-off. Arthur turned to him and grinned at him, showing off his fangs, and boy, Alfred hoped he was going to conceal those for the rest of the night. Fortunately Matthew didn’t notice.

The apartment was at least twice the size of Alfred’s own, and Alfred didn’t know how they were able to live here. It had to cost at least twice as much as well, but they had a wealthy grandfather, so who knows.

Matthew had disappeared into the kitchen upon arriving, and Alfred watched with vague interest and irritation as Arthur moved from his side and flitted around the room to charm the pants off of practically anyone. Half an hour in, he noticed that even Ludwig had cracked a smile, and _damn_. That had taken the American half a year! It wasn’t fair.

And well, Feliciano acted completely infatuated, but he wasn’t sure if he was just that charmed by Arthur or his German love interest (there was a betting pool going on, and Alfred betted on two more weeks).

The bottle of Sassicaia Arthur had seemingly pulled from nowhere might have helped gaining Feliciano’s favour though, Alfred smart enough to realize that wasn’t a ten dollar bottle of wine. Again, show-off.

“Your roommate is such a sight for sore eyes, when he is not being an angry little thing, _non_?”

Alfred frowned at the Frenchman who slithered up to him, pleasant smile on his face.

“Not cool, man, you’re dating my cousin.”

“Nothing wrong with inspecting the goods! Do not worry, I am not disloyal.” Well, he better not be, if he wanted to keep both his eyes and hands, Alfred thought. “I must say he _does_ compliment your boorish appearance – or rather, he distracts people from you. How are you two doing?”

“He’s my _roommate_ , Francis, knock it off.” Alfred hissed, feeling a little warm. “He is definitely not the type to… y’know.” Oh man, if only he knew what Arthur actually was.

 “I suppose the green on your face is not from jealousy but from something you ate, then?”

The other teased, poking at Alfred’s cheek. Alfred scowled – he was rather miffed with how easy Arthur was able to be social with everyone. Was he using magic or something, or was he naturally charming? Alfred had a hard time believing that.

“Perhaps he does it only to impress you,” Francis continued jovially, and Alfred was about to tell him off when rescue came in the form of a cursing Italian and a jovial Spaniard.

Antonio and Lovino were polar opposites. The moment Antonio entered the apartment, he was loud and boisterous, shouting his greetings to his friends. Lovino entered silently, almost broodingly, heading straight towards the kitchens whilst Antonio moved to meet with Francis, a lifelong friend.

How they had ever ended up dating, was a mystery. Alfred was pretty sure Lovino only tolerated everyone in this room because Feliciano might cry if he didn’t. And whilst a cheerful partner would be a good match, to bring Lovino out in the open a bit more, Antonio was over-the-top. He was never _not_ happy, couldn’t go half an hour without laughing.

On top of that, he didn’t even study at their university (or study at all). Alfred didn’t know what exactly, but apparently he was working in commerce.

Someone grabbed his wrist in a vice-like grip, and Alfred turned to see Arthur glaring daggers at him. It was odd to see him so, because he had been charming and relaxed so far, but now he was tense enough that Alfred swore he could see his fangs and a glow in his eyes.

“You never told me that-“ The Brit was interrupted when a hand clasped on Alfred’s shoulder, the friendly gesture a stark contrast from the grip on his wrist.

“Arthur!” Antonio shouted with glee, and Alfred felt as if he were doused with cold water. How the _hell_ did Antonio know Arthur? Did they meet at campus or did they-

“Antonio.” Arthur said coolly, releasing Alfred immediately. His expression was unreadable, almost nonchalant. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I did not know you were in the neighbourhood. What _are_ you doing here, friend?”

 If Alfred didn’t know any better, the question almost sounded threatening. The Spaniard was smiling still, but it looked a little forced at the edges. Arthur didn’t respond immediately, and out of nervousness, Alfred let his mouth blabber.

“Antonio, Arthur is my new roommate! I didn’t know you guys knew each other.”

“What do you study, Arthur?” Antonio almost completely ignored Alfred, and first of all, _rude._

“English literature.”

Of course that would be the answer Arthur would pick, and Alfred hoped that the look he gave Arthur would come over as unimpressed at his originality. It was so stereotypical that it almost hurt. Antonio nodded and promptly turned around to enter the kitchen.

“Okay, so,” Alfred began, turned back to Arthur. “We could go. I didn’t know another one of you could be here. What are the odds, man.”

So he had assumed things, but can you blame him? Arthur and Antonio seemed to hate each other, and he could have hardly met him, right? Antonio was only ever on campus when he visited Lovino , and Arthur didn’t seem to know the Italians before now.

Arthur shook his head with a mirthful smile. “Antonio would be a sorry excuse for a demon.” He said, not explaining shit.

He wasn’t given the opportunity to ask for clarification, because Feliciano announced dinner was ready. The company of eight moved towards the round table tucked in the large living room, enough to seat them all with a bit of squeezing. Arthur sat to his left, fortunately, because Alfred would have been on edge all evening if he could not properly monitor his roommate.

Halfway during the dinner he felt tension bleed out of his shoulders – Arthur was a _really_ good actor. He answered any question as if it were the truthful ones, telling people about his family that lived on a farm in England and about his high school life. If Alfred didn’t know any better, he would almost think Arthur had once led that kind of life, being the second youngest in a big family with only brothers that he messed around with constantly.

He noticed Antonio’s expression was rather glum during the entirety of the meal however, which was kind of out of character for the man. Usually he was always cheerful, cracking a lot of jokes. Even Lovino seemed to sense the mood was off.

“I wasn’t aware you moved to the States, _amigo_.” Antonio said eventually, his expression sour. Arthur shrugged.

“It was an impulse decision. Fortunately I met Alfred who could provide me with housing so quickly.”

“Yes. How coincidental.” Antonio turned his eyes on Alfred – and Alfred realized Antonio _knew._ Not only did he know Arthur was a demon, but he knew that Alfred knew as well. “What did your family think of you moving out?”

“They are not concerned.” Arthur answered briskly. The entire table seemed to listen in on the conversation, noticing the tension between the two men. “Tell me, friend, what is it you’re doing in America? Certainly not something…” He noticed Arthur’s eyes flit over to Lovino for a second, before settling back on Antonio with a playful glint. “Morally questionable?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He gulped as a silence followed where Arthur and Antonio were just glaring at each other, openly, not caring who saw it or not. Lovino was obviously getting irritated, and the others were just getting more and more confused, Francis looking at Alfred with a questioning frown.

“ _Ve_ , right!” Feliciano, bless his ignorant heart, interrupted by clapping his hands and standing up. “Who wants tiramisu?”

Arthur turned to the small Italian and gave a charming grin, his eyes slowly dragging from the Spaniard towards Feliciano. “That sounds delicious.” Feliciano obviously faltered a little and smiled brightly as he all but skipped towards the kitchen, missing the way Antonio was grumbling something under his breath.

Nothing more eventful happened, except for Arthur and Antonio glaring at each other every now and then.

When they arrived into the safety of their own dorm two hours later, however, he couldn’t help but go straight for the elephant in the room.

“Okay, _what_? How on earth do you know Antonio? What was up between you two?”

He watched as Arthur rolled his shoulders a little as he sometimes did to adjust his wings. He didn’t transform however.

“We clash every now and then.” Arthur said simply. “It has always been such – demons are not fond of angels, neither are they fond of us.”

 _Angels?!_ Freaking _angels?!_

Alfred was aware that he had a silent meltdown for a minute, Arthur looking at him expectantly.

“You’re saying Antonio is an angel.” Alfred glared at Arthur. “He does _not_ strike me as an angel.”

“You watch too much television, Alfred.” Arthur scolded with a chuckle. “Do not worry, as much as I have my horns and tail, he has his fluffy feathers and halo.”

The mental image of Antonio in a toga, with fluffy, feathery, white wings on his back and a golden halo atop his messy brown hair was hilarious. Despite the absurdity of the situation, Alfred started laughing a little.

“Dude, dude, you’re killing me here. Antonio, an angel? I thought angels were… I don’t know. Different. _Duuuude,_ he has the hots for Lovino. Are angels even allowed to be gay? Are they allowed to have sex? Oh man, what if they’re celibate? No wonder Lovino is always so chagrin.”

“I’m not an angel, I wouldn’t know. Contrary to popular belief, homosexuality is not actually a sin.” Arthur said uninterestedly, as if he didn’t just blow Alfred’s mind. Wow, the church would have a field day with this.

Scratch that – they would have a field day with Arthur alone already. Did they even still practice exorcisms? Alfred wasn’t going to find out.

“Do you know of any other supernatural beings in your surroundings?” Arthur asked after Alfred had disappeared into his room to have several more meltdowns and to change into his sleepwear.

Alfred frowned – he hadn’t even known Antonio to be one. Sure, he knew lots of weird people, but that didn’t make them supernatural per se. And he refused to think every odd human he would now meet was some kind of weird creature instead. Shaking his head, he watched as Arthur nodded.

“I should scout the area regardless.”

“All right. Thank you, by the way.” Arthur tilted his head in question. “For, you know, coming along and acting… I don’t know, normal? They’ve been on my back about you for ages, so… They seemed to like you well enough. Well, with the exception of Antonio and by extension perhaps Lovino.”

“Yes, well.” Arthur chuckled at the latter part. “I assumed you wanted me on my best behaviour. And I suppose I was able to amuse myself, no matter how dull you humans sometimes are.”

The insult didn’t have any meaning behind it, Alfred realized, so he just shrugged and grinned. Arthur’s appearance slowly bled out to his original one, the Brit stretching slightly as his wings fanned out behind him. He straightened again to fix the other with something akin to a leer, green eyes heated.

“Did you know they are betting on us?” Arthur said, as he approached the other, stopping at arm’s length. Alfred swallowed, trying to keep a nonchalant expression. Of course he knew, he was there when they did it.

“Really?”

“I would bet on another week, at most. Good night, Alfred.” Arthur said, feigning an innocent look before disappearing into a fog of black smoke.

Face heating up as Alfred realized what the other had implied, Alfred waved his hand through the smoke, watching it twirling through his fingers and disappearing into air. Deciding he wasn’t going to let the demon play with his mind, Alfred tried to shake it off as teasing, and decided to turn in for the night.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A smaller chapter than usual, but I couldn't really drag it out more. I realize that while I know where I want to the story to go, I am having difficulty with putting it to paper, lol. 
> 
> Also I didn't proofread this sorry 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy a chapter full of Alfred being a lil shit and being hormonal! (;

It had been five days since the dinner at the Italians, and Arthur hadn’t been around for one of those days. Idly Alfred wondered if Arthur had gone back down below to finish whatever business he had been talking about, because he didn’t know where else Arthur could have gone for so long.

It wasn’t unusual for the demon to disappear on him, but this had been his longest absence yet.

Alfred supposed he didn’t mind all that much. He had deadlines for a lot of essays coming up, so he appreciated not being too distracted by another being. So far his only distractions were his PlayStation and his social media, and that meant he couldn’t use anything more than that.

_I would bet on another week, at most._

Alfred shuddered, and then frowned, at the memory of what Arthur had last said to him. Kind of a dick move to rile him up like that and then disappear, but sure, whatever. It’s not as if Alfred had jerked off to that and to Arthur’s expression when he said it, nope.

He grimaced. He wasn’t good at lying to himself. To his mom, when he stole snacks or when he got sent to the principal, he was a master of lies. But to himself – well, he knew himself too well.

Alfred supposed he was well on his way to come to terms with his insane attraction to the being that could _literally_ tear his throat out. So far he only believed messed up people  would be attracted to dangerous things (such as some furries and their weird predator kinks), but he _knew_ he wasn’t messed up.

No okay, he was a millennial – a gay one at that – trying to make it during Trump’s presidency, of course he was messed up. Thank god he was relatively clear of mental illnesses _(could you call attraction to a devil a mental illness?)_ , because he wasn’t sure if he could handle something like depression on top of all this. He was kind of impressed by people who did handle that along with their normal lives.

The waitress of the diner Alfred was frequenting came by and offered to fill his cup of coffee up again, which he agreed to with a charming smile. He came here often when he needed to escape campus and the growing dread of the university life.

Still, he did have his books laid out in front of him. He was currently working on an essay for his comms class, and damn, did he again wish he had taken a bolder route and studied something space-related once more.

Whatever, one more year after this one and he would be done. That year would mostly be filled with internships too, instead of studying, so that would be a relief. Perhaps he could pick up something new after that as well.

Most of his computer research had already been done, so now he was filing through sections of books that might be useful or that he might need to use to finish it off later. It was tedious work, but the old music coming from the jukebox in the corner of the diner and the constant supply of coffee (which wasn’t as draining on his wallet as Starbucks, thank god) did wonders.

He got relatively far too, even though it was starting to near night, but he was interrupted by someone sliding into the seat across from him.

Alfred burned his tongue and almost choked because he breathed in the coffee instead of sipping it, surprised at who it was. He had kind of expected Matthew to come and get him, or maybe even Feliks, as they knew how he could forget about time when he was studying.

But instead of his friend or nephew, Antonio of all people sat across from him, a cautious look in his eyes.

Look, Alfred had always kind of admired Antonio. The man was handsome, what with his Spanish heritage and his charms and good moods. He seemed like he really had his life together, always taking Lovino on fancy dates and looking well-groomed all in all.

But the revelation of what he was kind of had him Shooketh™.

It also made him realize he probably didn’t have his life as well together as everyone thought – Alfred was fairly sure that he didn’t have a job and instead conjured up  money and the like the same way Arthur did it. Which was kind of infuriating to Alfred, who was a somewhat poor student trying to make it in a big and scary world.

That, and it was fucking _terrifying_. At least he somewhat trusted Arthur, despite knowing what he was and what he could do. Antonio? Alfred was struck with how little he knew about Antonio. He only ever saw him with one of the Italians twins near him.

Still, he was roommates with a demon. As he said before, what better guard dog was there? It made him feel a little more powerful. Surely Antonio wouldn’t like, smite him, or something? Arthur would probably kick his ass, right?

Alfred was a little aware of how he was probably glorifying his relationship with Arthur to more than it was – Arthur probably didn’t _really_ care about whether or not Alfred would get his ass kicked by an angel.

That didn’t stop him from running his mouth, though.

“So, Antonio, took any holy shits lately?”

Oh man, he was hilarious.

Okay, he had been thinking about that ever since he yelled the curse words when he stubbed his little toe, three days ago. He’d been brooding about how funny it would be to say it to Antonio, and he was right. It _was_ funny. He allowed himself to chuckle, even though Antonio looked severely unimpressed.

“I don’t have to ask whether or not you know, then.” Antonio said, face unreadable. “Alfred, what were you _thinking_?”

Alfred’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Was Antonio concerned, or confused, or angry? He wasn’t sure. And when Alfred wasn’t sure about things, he had a few coping mechanisms. Right now, he chose to be defensive.

“Hey, I don’t think a male angel who has been getting freaky with a male human has any right to judge me. What were _you_ thinking, huh? Does Lovino even know?”

“No, and you won’t tell him.”

“Or else?” Antonio sighed, wriggling his shoulders (which Alfred acutely noticed), and slumped back a little.

“Look, Alfred, I am not here to fight with you.”

That made Alfred relax slightly, forcing his defensive side away a little. Antonio had always been nice to him prior, and Alfred liked to believe that they could stay on somewhat amicable terms, even with Arthur living right next to himself.

“Has he been threatening you? Making you do things you don’t want to? If you want out, Alfred, I can help you. You can trust me.”

Alfred raised one of his eyebrows and pushed his glasses up a little, scrutinizing the other. He supposed Antonio was right to assume that Arthur was forcing him into their deal – and well, Arthur might have played into Alfred’s innocence and gullibility.

He certainly mentioned once or twice that he could just kill Alfred and take his place. Thinking back on it, the threats had seemed a little empty and more teasing, but what did Alfred know?

“Look, man, I get where you’re coming from, but it’s consensual. I need the money and he’s happy to provide it.” Antonio’s face told Alfred _exactly_ what the other was thinking, and his face heat up. “Not like that! I mean as in him renting the _room_. God, aren’t you supposed to be pure!?”

“I think you know by now that public beliefs about angels and demons are a little inaccurate.” Antonio said, voice taking on a teasing tone.

“Yes, well, I’m still planning on being the next J.K. Rowling with all the shit I’m learning. If I don’t get kidnapped by the Vatican or FBI first, of course.”

Antonio rolled his eyes at that, and Alfred flashed one of his grins. In the back of his mind he wondered if all the bad horror movies he watched before, based on demons, angels and the like, had a source of truthfulness in them. Surely Alfred wasn’t the first human exposed to demons and the like.

“I have to go, but know that you are always welcome to reach out to me. To talk, or if you want out of whatever you are in. Arthur isn’t the worst there is, but… well I wouldn’t trust him with my left shoe.”

“Did you just quote a political comment about a Republican to me-“

“ _Alfred_.”

“Okay, okay. How would I even reach out to you? Do I gotta say your name in my prayers before I got to bed or something?” Antonio laughed as he stood up and made to leave.

“Sure, but you could also just text me or message me on Facebook.”

Oh, right. Alfred grinned sheepishly. As Antonio left, another smart ass comment found its way into his mind however.

“Hey! Does this mean you’re the Cas to my Dean?” He said loud enough for the other to hear. Antonio exited, but not before raising his hand and offering Alfred his middle finger. How crass. Were angels allowed to do that? Alfred was going to file a complaint with God.

Oh _shit,_ he could totally ask Antonio about that kind of stuff. Arthur had said he didn’t know much about heaven and the like, only that angels were a pain in the ass to demons. Would Antonio tell him? Alfred could blackmail him with saying he was going to tell Lovino.

Which wasn’t a good idea, he reasoned. If he didn’t get smitten first, and if whatever big guy at the gates up there would forgive his dealings with Arthur, then he’d definitely go to hell for blackmailing an angel.  

Deciding that whatever just happened now wasn’t going to give Alfred peace for the rest of the night, he grabbed up all his stuff and paid for his tab before leaving the establishment and heading back home.

It was relatively quiet on campus, since it was past dinner time. Alfred would probably just heat up some leftovers from the day before, and then head to bed. Tomorrow he only had two morning classes, and he’d use the rest of his day off to finish this bloody essay. After that, he was free for a day, and then he’d force himself to start on the other assignment whose due date was coming up.

He grumbled about teachers conspiring together by assigning all assignments at the same time, whilst also enjoying the fresh air and general quietness of the area. Sure, he could hear some noises here and there, from people talking. He was fairly sure there was a party going on somewhere on campus too, but he wasn’t interested.

Kicking the door to his apartment closed roughly fifteen minutes later, Alfred noticed the apartment was void of anything but Tony. He hadn’t really expected Arthur to be back, but he had kind of hoped it. He wanted to talk about his encounter with Antonio, and he couldn’t very well call Matthew and ask him what he thought about an angel coming up to him like that.

Perhaps he should tell Matthew. Keeping all of this for himself had to be unhealthy in the long run, right? Especially for someone like Alfred. He was _known_ for blabbing. He could keep a secret, sure, but this was a _big_ one and it was beginning to wear on him a little. He wanted to gossip about Arthur with Feliks, too.

Alfred ate his leftovers right out of the fridge, not bothering to heat it up, pretending that he didn’t feel like a mess because of it, before heading to his room. He changed into something more sleep-appropriate and dropped down onto his bed, wrapping the covers around him like a cocoon. Almost immediately Tony jumped on him to settle on his chest. Alfred smiled at the furry creature and let his soft purring slowly guide him into sleep.  


* * *

 

After the two completely _useless_ classes (useless because they wouldn’t help him with his assignments), Alfred had taken a nap that had spiralled into more like a full  night of sleep and had promptly woken up at dinner time in a frenzy because his deadline was in _five hours_.

He didn’t bother changing and ran out of his room to the kitchen. There he grabbed a package of salted crackers and a bottle of soda before rushing back into his room, failing to notice the kettle was currently warming up water.

About an hour into his panic fuelled essay writing, he noticed Arthur had come home, because said demon was currently arguing with Tony about whatever back in the living room. He bit back a smile – Arthur had taken up the habit of actually talking to Tony as if the cat understood him (maybe he did).

It was mostly only when the cat was doing something that annoyed Arthur, such as throwing things of the table or marking the demon by rolling against him or sitting on his lap.

He was _almost_ done (he wanted to weep, and has voiced that opinion to Kiku several times over text now, but the Japanese boy had stopped responding to him) when he heard his door open abruptly. He didn’t pay it any mind – perhaps Tony had been scratching at his door and Arthur had opened it for him.

“This place looks like a dump. So do you.”

Alfred huffed at Arthur’s insult, opting to not respond. He hoped that if he kept his focus on his computer and not on Arthur, that the demon would go away. Odd, though, because as far as Alfred knew, Arthur had never been in this room before.  

He kept his eyes stubbornly on his screen, knowing he wasn’t going to progress with this essay with Arthur in the room, but he could at least try.

He heard the other walk over and tensed a little, preparing for whatever new insult or comment was going to be thrown his way. He wasn’t prepared for Arthur to lean over his shoulder, mouth close to his ear.

“You’re awfully tense. You could use a break.”

 “I really got to finish this first.” He finally relented half-heartedly, unsure whether or not he wanted to reject Arthur’s presence here in the first place.

After all, it sounded a lot like Arthur was offering to spend time with him. Which was a welcome change; usually it was Alfred initiating any kind of social activities (other than bingewatching Supernatural).

“Then you can work whilst I… help.” Arthur continued with a velvety voice, sending shivers up Alfred’s spine.

Alfred was acutely aware of their proximity. It was no strange thing that Arthur would lean over his shoulder to look what he was doing (he often did so whilst Alfred was gaming) or to grab his attention.

But he’d never stay this close for this long. Arthur usually flitted in and out of his personal space, always with a teasing smirk.

Alfred shook his head, hoping that if he didn’t respond, Arthur would still just turn around to go do whatever. He sat a little straighter and leant forward to focus on his screen, re-reading his last few sentences, when Arthur decided to do his thing regardless.

Strong hands landed on his shoulders and softly started kneading the flesh. Alfred nearly jolted in surprise, the feeling unfamiliar but definitely not unpleasant. It took perhaps a second or two before Alfred leant back towards the Brit, sighing pleasantly as he felt himself practically melt in the other’s hands.

The countless hours he had spent hunched over his books and his laptop had definitely done a number on his shoulders, after all, and he hadn’t had as much time going to the gym or working out what with all the due dates school was throwing his way. So he was a little tense, yeah.

He heard Arthur chuckle throatily and warning bells went off in Alfred’s head, but he didn’t pay them any mind – not when Arthur’s thumbs were delicately pressing into some of the knots on Alfred’s upper back and _wow_ , he could totally understand people paying for massages.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” He heard Arthur purr to him, hands sliding from his shoulders to his upper arms and back.

Alfred groaned appreciatively, instinctively tilting his neck a little as Arthur leant down. He heard Arthur chuckle again as he continued on with his ministrations, and Alfred felt as if he were turning into jelly.

He slipped his eyes closed, trying not to think of the unfinished essay in front of him. He’d finish it later, he knew he had more a few more hours. He said as much when Arthur inquired about it, Arthur humming in agreement.

He wasn’t even really aware of what happened when Arthur’s hands slid down the front of his chest to his stomach area, Arthur leaning his head on Alfred’s shoulder instead. He sighed pleasantly as Arthur nuzzled the skin on his neck, warm air ghosting over it.

“Y-You…” Alfred started, faintly knowing that this was going into the wrong (or right, depending on your opinion) direction, but his mind short-circuited when Arthur pressed his lips to the skin on his neck. It wasn’t so much as a light kiss as it was just pressing his lips against it, but in combination with Arthur’s hand fluttering over his chest and stomach, it was already wonderful.

It didn’t take very long for Arthur to nimbly undo the buttons of Alfred’s shirt, pushing it open so his fingers could caress the skin underneath. Arthur mumbled something, and it sounded appreciative but Alfred couldn’t be assed to listen, instead focusing on how Arthur was biting gently across his neck.

He was aware that he was muttering Arthur’s name occasionally, though he wasn’t sure. Something told him that this wasn’t what was supposed to happen, but then he would feel Arthur’s lips or even _teeth_ on his skin and he’d deflate, turning into a gibberish mess.

It wasn’t until his shirt was completely unbuttoned and Arthur was heading for the zipper on his jeans, that Alfred regained some control back. He moaned as Arthur finished sucking what had to be a bruise into his neck, grabbing for the Brit’s arm and pulling.

Arthur apparently understood and straightened to walk around the chair and sank to his knees between his legs. Alfred was _not_ prepared for that image and the many mental images that followed. Arthur grinned up at him, thankfully fangless, hands already back on the other’s fly.

_I would bet on another week, at most._

Eyes widening, he snapped out of his daze and wheeled the chair back, causing Arthur to almost fall over. The demon caught himself at the last moment however, fluttering his wings so gravity pulled him back straight and he stood up, an annoyed expression on his face.

“What was that?!” Alfred screeched, face as red as a tomato. He grabbed the sides of his shirt and immediately started buttoning them up again, ignoring the prominent bulge in his pants as he zipped those back up as well.

“What was- my _wings,_ Alfred, do they make you-“

“No, not that! What were you doing? Oh my god, I can’t believe you would do that.” Alfred said, accusatory tone overtaking his voice and hating the way Arthur had the gall to look confused. “Don’t look like that! I know you were charming me, I thought you said you weren’t an incubus-“

“What?!”

Alfred promptly shut up, because he had actually never managed to get such a reaction out of the demon. Arthur looked seriously offended, his brows furrowing down into one of the nastiest glares he had received as of yet.

“What?” He repeated smartly, momentarily taken off guard by Arthur’s expression. Arthur _had_ charmed him… right?

“How dare you insinuate I would- I can’t believe you thought-“ It seems the other was actually for a loss of words, for a moment, which surprised Alfred even more, a dreading feeling coiling in his stomach. “You’re such a wanker!”

“Wait, what?” Alfred licked his lips, the dreading feeling spreading out into his limbs and head. “You weren’t?”

Arthur scowled at him and abruptly vanished into thin air, without so much of a goodbye. Alfred blinked and shot up from his chair, running out of his room to Arthur’s room. Slamming the door open, however, proved that the demon wasn’t there either. Calling out his name, Alfred ran from room to room, but he was quickly acknowledging the fact Arthur had just disappeared to God knows where ( _again_ ).

He cursed loudly and kicked his bedroom door shut, kicking it a few more times for good measure. The bulge in his pants had long since gone down, deflating the moment Alfred realized he had misunderstood the situation, when he had seen Arthur’s insulted look.

For a moment, he had been _convinced_ that Arthur was playing with him because of that stupid bet, that he had somehow made him feel as fluttery as he did.

Right now he really doubted it, because A. he was a very hormonal being, so of course he would turn to jelly the moment an incredibly attractive person would touch him like that, and B. Arthur had never did anything like that to him before and had always told Alfred he wouldn’t. It was kind of a dickish move of him to imply otherwise.

And hello! The hormonal part of his brain was also really angry at him. He could have gotten some serious action right there, but because he was stupid and insecure about what Arthur had said five days ago, he ruined it.

The brightness of the laptop in his otherwise rather dark room glared back at him. He scowled and kicked the door once more for good measure, before returning to his desk. The sooner he got this essay finished, the sooner he could go to bed and think all this over, preferably with the image he just witnessed in his head.


End file.
